t 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

GIFT  OF 
Mrs.   Sdwin  Grgbhorn 


'Wat  zo  debbil  I  got  hero  !  Ze,  dam  leetle  hat  wliiz  ze  hole  in  ze  top  ;  bigar !  I  no 
like,  dot."— Page  73. 


COLONEL  THORPE'S 
SCENES  IN  ARKANSAS 


;Stop,  Chaney,  I  was  not  told  to  cup  you  on  the  breast,  but  on  the  sternum,  HO 

you'll  have  to  turn  over  !"     "  What !"  shrieked  she,  rising  straight  up  in 

the  bed,  a  great  deal  whiter  in  the  face  than  ishe  had  been  for 

many  a  day  ;  "  You  cup  rne  on  the  starn  !" — Page  186. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
T.    J5.    PKTKR8ON   &   BliOTIIKUS. 


COLONEL    THORPE'S 
SCENES   IN    AEKANSAW. 


CONTAINING  THE  WHOLE  OF  THE 


QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY;  AND  BOB  HERRING, 
THE  ARKANSAS  BEAR  HUNTER. 

AS  WELL  AS 

bttppg  0n  %  jitowm;  paging  |0tor  m  Jbrtaai 

AND  OTHER  SKETCHES  ILLUSTRATIVE  OP 

SCENES,  INCIDENTS,  AND  CHARACTERS, 

THROUGHOUT 

"THE  UNIVERSAL  YANKEE  NATION." 

TO  WHICH  IS  ADDED  THE 

DRAMA  IN  POKERVILLE;  A  NIGHT  IN  A  SWAMP; 

AND    OTHER    STORIES. 

BY  J,  M,  FIELD,  ESQ.,  OF  THE  ST,  LOUIS  REVEILLE. 


WITH  SIXTEEN  ILLUSTRATIONS, 

FROM 

ORIGINAL   DESIGNS   BY   DARLEY. 


T.    B.    PETERSON    AND    BROTHERS, 

306    CHESTNUT    STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1858,  by 
T.     B.    PETERSON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  Stau*,  in  MU*  for  ib* 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY, 


AND 

r 

OTHER  SKETCHES, 

ILLUSTRATIVE  OF 

SCENES,  CHARACTERS,  AND  INCIDENTS, 

THROUGHOUT 

"THE  UNIVERSAL  YANKEE  NATION." 

EDITED    BY 

WILLIAM  T.  PORTER, 

EDITOR  OF  "THE  SPIKIT  OF  THE  TIMES,"  "BIG  BEAR  OF  ARKANSAS,  AJTO 

OTHER   TALES,"   ETC. 

WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY    BARLEY. 


T.    B.    PETERSON    AND    BROTHERS, 
306    CHESTNUT    STREET. 


Entetei  6T/»rding  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846,  by 
CAREY  &  HART, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  in  and  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvauia. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1854,  hy 
T.  B.  PETERSON, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  in  and  for  tha 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


«".  OLLINS,     PRINTER. 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  great  degree  of  favour  with  which  a  series  of 
Sketches,  similar  to  those  embraced  in  the  present 
volume,  was  received  by  the  public  and  the  press  last 
year,  has  induced  the  publishers  to  add  another  volume 
of  the  same  character  and  style  to  their  "  LIBRARY  OF 
AMERICAN  HUMOROUS  WRITERS." 

As  "  The  Big  Bear  of  Arkansas,  and  Other  Tales," 
which  were  more  especially  intended  to  illustrate  cha 
racter  and  incident  in  the  south  and  south-west,  appear 
to  have  been  unusually  popular,  the  Editor  trusts  that 
the  present  volume,  which  includes  a  wider  range  of 
the  peculiarities  and  characteristics  of  "  the  Universal 
Yankee  Nation,"  will  not  be  deemed  less  entertaining 
by  the  public  generally. 

The  different  Sketches  in  this  volume  have  nearly 
all  appeared  in  the  columns  of  the  New  York  "  Spirit 

5 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

of  the  Times,"  where  most  of  them  were  published 
originally.  If  they  afford  as  much  satisfaction  in  their 
present  shape  as  when  first  given  to  the  world,  the 
Editor  will  enjoy  the  consciousness  of  having  been  the 
means  of  alleviating  the  dulness  and  ennui  of  many  a 
weary  hour,  and  of  having  added  his  mite  in  contribut 
ing  to  the  amusement  and  gratification  of  "  the  million." 

WM.  T.  PORTER. 

Office  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times," 
Jfew  York,  Oct.  1846. 


CONTENTS. 


A  QUARTER   RACE   IN  KENTUCKY ~ „-.  13 

A  SHARK    STORY ....^ 26 

LANTY  OLIPHANT  IN  COURT ~- -, 38 

BILL   MORSE  ON  THE    CITY  TAXES-  — - 41 

ANCE  VEASY'S  FIGHT  WITH   REUB.  SESSIONS 43 

THE  FASTEST  FUNERAL  ON  RECORD 47 

GOING  TO  BED  BEFORE  A  YOUNG  LADY 3S 

A   MILLERITE    MIRACLE ~ 60 

OLD  SINGLETIRE.... - 64 

"RUNNING  A  SAW"  ON  A  FRENCH  GENTLEMAN 08 

BREAKING  A  BANK-— 74 

TAKING  THE  CENSUS-  ..*~..~, » 80 

DICK  HARLAN'S  TENNESSEE  FROLIC -. 82 

"FALLING  OFF  A  LOG,"  IN   A  GAME  OF  "SEVEN-UP" 91 

THE  "WERRY  FAST  CRAB" 96 

"FRENCH  WITHOUT  A   MASTER"' 99 

A  ROLLICKING  DRAGOON    OFFICER ~ ~.-  103 

THE  GEORGIA  MAJOR  IN  COURT vVTT 107 

UNCLE  BILLY  BROWN— "  GLORIOUS" 110 

7 


O  CONTENTS. 

MM 

OLD  TUTTLE'S  LAST  QUARTER  RACE ..,.«,    117 

BILL  DEAN,  THE  TEXAN  RANGER ~~  122 

THE  STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIN  WHO  WAS  AVERSE  TO  RACING  125 

BOB  HERRING,  THE  ARKANSAS  BEAR  HUNTER 130 

McALPIN'S  TRIP  TO  CHARLESTON 146 

INDIA  RUBBER  PILLS — — •  151 

A  MURDER  CASE  IN  MISSISSIPPI 154 

KICKING  A  YANKEE — » — ~~  ~ 161 

A  "  DOWN-EAST"— ORIGINAL • ~~ — — 165 

"SOMEBODY  IN  MY  BED" - ~~ 168 

A  DAY  AT  SOL.  SLICE'S .~-..~~..~~. 172 

CUPPING  ON  THE   STERNUM ~ 184 

A  BEAR  STORY.-. ~ ~..~~.  188 

PLAYING  "POKER"  IN  ARKANSAS ™ W7 


A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY. 

BY  A  NORTH  ALABAMIAN. 

The  following  inimitable  story,  perhaps  the  most  humorous  of 
its  kind  in  the  language,  was  originally  published  in  the  N.  Y. 
"  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  in  1836  ;  since  that  period  the  unceas 
ing  demand  for  copies  of  it  has  rendered  its  re-publication  ne 
cessary  several  times.  It  was  written  by  a  country  gentleman 
of  North  Alabama,  the  author  of  "Jones's  Fight."  It  is  a 
matter  of  infinite  regret  that  he  cannot  be  induced  to  write  more 
frequently  ;  his  friends  would  be  "  after  him  with  a  sharp 
stick,"  were  we  to  disclose  his  name,  which  is  familiar  te  tens 
of  thousands  of  his  countrymen,  if  they  only  knew  it. 

NOTHING  would  start  against  the  Old  Mare  ;  and  after 
more  formal  preparation  in  making  weight  and  posting 
judges  than  is  customary  when  there  is  a  contest,  « the 
sateful  old  kritter"  went  off  crippling  as  if  she  was  not 
fit  to  run  for  sour  cider,  and  any  thing  could  take  the 
shine  out  of  her  that  had  the  audacity  to  try  it.  The 
muster  at  the  stand  was  slim,  it  havjng  been  understood 
up  town,  that  as  to  sport  to-day  the  races  would  prove 
a  water-haul.  I  missed  all  that  class  of  old  and  young 
gentlemen  who  annoy  owners,  trainers,  and  riders, 
particularly  if  they  observe  they  are  much  engaged, 
with  questions  that  should  not  be  asked,  and  either 
can't  or  should  not  be  answered.  The  business  folks 
and  men  of  gumption  were  generally  on  the  grit,  and 
much  of  the  chaff  certainly  had  been  blown  off. 

A  walk  or  gallop  over  is  a  slow  affair ;  and  without 

13 


14        A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY. 

being  in  any  way  able  to  account  for  it,  it  seemed  to 
be  an  extremely  dry  affair ;  for  while  the  four  mile  was 
being  done  (as  the  prigs  have  it)  I  noticed  many  a  centaur 
of  a  fellow  force  his  skeary  nag  up  to  the  opening  in  the 
little  clapboard  shanty,  and  shout  out  impatiently — 
"  Colonel,  let  us  have  some  of  your  byled  corn — pour  me 
out  a  buck  load — there — never  mind  about  the  water, 
I  drank  a  heap  of  it  yesterday,"  and  then  wheel  off  to 
the  crowd  as  if  intent  on  something. 

The  race,  like  all  things,  had  an  end  ,  and  I  had 
some  idea,  in  imitation  of  Sardanapalus,  «  all  in  one  day 
to  see  the  race,  then  go  home,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry, 
for  all  the  rest  was  not  worth  a  fillip,"  when  I  met  Dan. 
He  knows  a  little,  finds  out  a  little,  and  guesses  the 
rest,  and,  of  course,  is  prime  authority.  I  inquired  if 
the  hunt  was  up.  "  Oh,  no,  just  hold  on  a  while,  and 
there  will  be  as  bursting  a  quarter  race  as  ever  was  read 
of,  and  I  will  give  it  'em,  so  you  can  make  expenses." 
1  always  make  a  hand  when  about,  and  thinking  I  might 
get  a  wrinkle  by  prying  into  the  mystery  of  quarter- 
racing,  I  accordingly  rode  to  the  thickest  of  the  crowd. 
A  rough-hewn  fellow,  who  either  was,  or  pretended  to 
be,  drunk,  was  bantering  to  run  his  mare  against  any 
horse  that  had  ploughed  as  much  that  season,  his  mare 
having,  as  he  assured  us,  tended  twenty-five  acres  in 
corn.  Another  chap  sidled  up  to  him,  and  offered  to 
plough  against  him  for  as  much  liquor  as  the  company 
could  drink,  or  for  who  should  have  both  nags — his  horse 
had  never  run,  as  he  did  not  follow  it.  Sorrel  got  mad, 
and  offered  to  beat  him  in  the  cart,  wagon  or  plough, 
or  he  could  beat  him  running  one  hundred  miles,  his 
weight  on  each,  for  five  hundred  dollars.  Bay  still 
disclaimed  racing,  but  would  run  the  quarter  stretch, 


A  rough-hewn  fellow,  who  either  was,  or  pretended  to  be,  drunk,  was  bantering 

to  run  his  mare  against  any  horse  that  had  ploughed  as  much 

that  season." — Page  1-1. 


A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY.         15 

to  amuse  the  company,  for  one  hundred  dollars.  Sorrel 
took  him  up,  provided  Bay  carried  his  present  rider, 
and  he  would  get  somebody  ;  Bay  agreed,  provided  he 
would  not  get  a  lighter  rider.  It  was  closed  at  that, 
an.d  two  of  Senator  Benton's  abominations — $100  Uni 
ted  States  Bank  Bills — were  planked  up.  Bay  inquired 
if  they  could  stand  another  $50  ; — agreed  to  by  Sorrel, 
who,  observing  Bay  shell  out  a  $100  note,  said,  there 
was  no  use  of  making  change,  as  his  note  was  the  same 
amount,  and  they  might  as  well  go  the  $100.  This 
was  promptly  agreed  to,  and  another  one  hundred  dol 
lars  offered,  and  immediately  covered — there  being 
now  three  hundred  dollars  aside.  Now  came  a  propo 
sal  to  increase  it  three  hundred  dollars  more  ;  Bay 
said — "  You  oversize  my  pile,  but  if  I  can  borrow  the 
money,  I'll  accommodate  you,"  and  immediately  slip 
ped  off  to  consult  his  banker.  Dan  now  whispered, 
"  Spread  yourself  on  the  Bay."  Thinking  I  should  run 
in  while  I  was  hot,  I  observed  aloud — I  should  admire 
to  bet  some  gentleman  ten  dollars  on- the  bay.  A  Mr. 
Wash,  or  as  he  was  familiarly  called,  Big  Wash,  snap 
ped  me  up  like  a  duck  does  a  June-bug,  by  taking  the 
bill  out  of  my  hand,  and  observing  that  either  of  us 
could  hold  the  stakes,  put  it  in  his  pocket.  Finding 
this  so  easily  done,  I  pushed  off  to  consult  my  friend 
Crump,  the  most  knowing  man  about  short  races  I  ever 
knew,  and  one  who  can  see  as  far  into  a  millstone  as 
the  man  that  pecks  it.  I  met  him  with  the  man  that 
made  the  race  on  the  bay,  coming  to  get  a  peep  at  the 
sorrel.  As  soon  as  he  laid  eyes  on  her  he  exclaimed — 
"  Why,  Dave,  you  made  a  pretty  pick  up  of  it;  I'm 
afraid  our  cake  is  all  dough — that's  old  Grapevine,  and  I 
told  you  point  blank  to  walk  round  her,  but  you're  like  a 


16        A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY. 

member  of  the  Kentucky  legislature,  who  admitted  that 
if  he  had  a  failing  it  was  being  a  leetle  too  brave." 

«<  How7  could  I  know  Grapevine,"  replied  Dave,  dog 
gedly  ;  "  and  you  told  me  you  could  beat  her,  any 
how." 

«  Yes,"  said  Crump,  « I  think  I  can  ;  but  I  didn't 
come  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  run  them  kind  of 
races — Old  Tompkins  has  brought  her  here,  and  I  like 
him  for  a  sucker!" 

"  Well,"  says  Dave,  "  maybe  I  can  get  off  with  the 
race  if  you  think  you'll  be  licked." 

"No,"  said  Crump,  "  when  I  go  a  catting,  I  go  a 
catting;  its  mighty  mixed  up,  and  there's  no  telling 
who's  constable  until  the  election  is  over ;  it  will  be  like 
the  old  bitch  and  the  rabbit,  nip  and  tack  every  jump, 
and  sometimes  the  bitch  a  leetle  ahead." 

Old  Tompkins,  who  had  not  appeared  during  the 
making  of  the  race,  now  came  round,  and  seeing  the 
bay,  said — "  Popcorn,  by  G — d."  He  now  came  for 
ward,  and  addressed  the  other  party:  "Boys,"  said  he, 
« it's  no  use  to  run  the  thing  into  the  ground.  If  a 
man  goes  in  for  betting,  I  say  let  him  go  his  load,  but 
we  have  no  ambition  against  you,  so  draw  the  bet  to 
one  hundred  dollars ;  that  is  enough  for  a  little  tacky 
race  like  this,  just  made  for  amusement." — Carried  by 
acclamation. 

Now  the  judges  were  selected :  a  good  judge  does 
not  mean  exactly  the  same  thing  here  as  on  the 
bench,  though  some  of  the  same  kind  may  be  found 
there — it  means  one  who  is  obstinate  in  going  for  his 
own  friends.  It  did  not  seem  to  be  considered  courteous 
to  object  to  the  selections  on  either  side,  perhaps  from 
a  mutual  consciousness  of  invulnerability.  But  one  of 


A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY.        17 

the  nominees  for  the  ermine  was  a  hickory  over  any 
oody's  persimmon  in  the  way  of  ugliness.  He  was 
said  to  be  the  undisputed  possessor  of  the  celebrated 
jack-knife  ;  his  likeness  had  been  moulded  on  dog-irons 
to  frighten  the  children  from  going  too  near  the  fire, 
and  his  face  ached  perpetually  ;  but  his  eyes !  his  eyes! 
He  was  said  to  have  caught  a  turkey-buzzard  by  the 
neck,  the  bird  being  deceived,  and  thinking  he  was 
looking  another  way ;  and  several  of  the  crowd  said  he 
was  so  cross-eyed  he  could  look  at  his  own  head  !  It 
was  objected  to  him  that  he  could  not  keep  his  eyes  on 
the  score,  as  he  did  not  see  straight,  and  it  was  leaving 
the  race  to  the  accident  of  which  of  his  optics  obtained 
the  true  bearing  when  the  horses  were  coming  out. 
The  objections  were  finally  overruled,  the  crooked 
party  contending  that  Nature  had  designed  him  for  a 
quarter  judge,  as  he  could  station  one  eye  to  watch 
when  the  foremost  horse's  toe  struck  the  score,  and 
could  note  the  track  of  the  horse  that  followed,  at  the 
same  moment,  with  the  other  eye. 

The  riders  now  attracted  my  attention.  It  is  cus 
tomary,  I  believe,  to  call  such  "  a  feather,"  but  they 
seemed  to  me  about  the  size  of  a  big  Christmas  turkey 
gobbler,  without  feathers  ;  and  I  was  highly  delighted 
with  the  precocity  of  the  youths — they  could  swear 
with  as  much  energy  as  men  of  six  feet,  and  they  used 
fourth-proof  oaths  with  a  volubility  that  would  bother 
a  congressional  reporter. 

There  now  arose  a  dispute  as  to  whether  they  should 
run  to  or  from  the  stand,  it  being  a  part  of  the  mile 
track,  and  there  being  some  supposed  advantage  to  one 
of  the  horses,  or  the  other,  according  as  this  might  be 
arranged.  It  was  determined  by  a  toss-up  at  last,  to 


18        A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY. 

run  to  the  stand.  After  another  toss  for  choice  of 
tracks,  and  another  for  the  word,  the  horses  walked 
off  towards  the  head  of  the  stretch.  Now  it  was 
"  Hurra,  my  Popcorn — I  believe  in  you — come  it  strong, 
lumber — go  it  with  a  looseness — root  little  pig,  or  die." 
And,  "Oh!  my  Grapevine!  tear  the  hind  sights  off 
him ! — you'll  lay  him  out  cold  as  a  wagon-tire — roll 
your  bones — go  it,  you  cripples !"  &c.,  &c.,  &c. 

Beginning  to  doubt,  from  all  I  heard,  whether  my 
friend  Dave  had  been  regularly  appointed  almanac- 
maker  for  this  year,  I  hedged  a  five,  and  staked  it  with 
a  young  man  that  was  next  me,  riding  a  remarkable 
wall-eyed  horse,  and  some  time  after  staked  another 
five  dollars,  with  a  person  I  had  noticed  assisting  about 
the  bar,  and  would  be  able  to  recognise  again.  I  now 
flattered  myself  on  my  situation — I  had  all  the  pleasur 
able  excitement  of  wagering,  and  nothing  at  risk. 

Each  side  of  the  track  was  lined  with  eager  faces, 
necks  elongated,  and  chins  projected,  a  posture  very 
conducive  to  health  in  a  bilious  climate,  as  it  facilitates 
the  operation  of  emetics.  I  was  deafened  with  loud 
cries  of  "Clear  the  track!"  "Stand  back!"  "Get 
off  the  fence!"  "The  riders  are  mounted!"  "  They 
are  coming!"  "Now  they  are  off!" — but  still  they 
came  not.  Without  intending  it,  I  found  myself,  and 
indeed  most  of  the  crowd,  moving  up  towards  the 
start,  and  after  every  failure,  or  false  alarm,  I  would 
move  a  few  yards.  I  overheard  a  fellow  telling  with 
great  glee — «  Well,  I  guess  I  warmed  the  wax  in  the 
ears  of  that  fellow  with  the  narrow  brimmed  white 
hat ;  he  had  an  elegant  watch  that  he  offered  to  bet 
against  a  good  riding-horse.  You  know  my  seventeen 
^year  old  horse,  that  I  always  call  the  bay  colt ;  I  pro- 


A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY.         19 

posed  to  stake  him  against  the  watch,  and  the  fellow 
agreed  to  it  without  ever  looking  in  his  mouth ;  if  he 
had,  he  would  haver  seen  teeth  as  long  as  tenpenny 
nails.  It  is  easy  fooling  any  of  them  New  York  col 
lectors — they  ain't  cute :  the  watch  is  a  bang-up  lever, 
and  he  says  if  he  was  GOING  TO  TRAVEL  he  would  not 
be  without  it  for  any  consideration.  He  made  me  pro 
mise  if  I  won  it  to  let  him  have  it  back  at  one  hundred 
dollars  in  case  he  went  into  Georgia  this  fall.  It  is 
staked  in  the  hands  of  the  Squire  there  ; — Squire,  show 
it  to  this  here  entire  stranger."  The  Squire  produced 
a  splendid  specimen  of  the  tin  manufacture;  I  pro 
nounced  it  valuable,  but  thought  it  most  prudent  not 
to  mention  for  what  purpose. 

Alarms  that  the  horses  were  coming  continued,  and 
I  gradually  reached  the  starting  place :  I  then  found 
that  Crump,  who  was  to  turn  Popcorn,  had  won  the 
word — that  is,  he  was  to  ask  «  are  you  ready  ?"  and  if 
answered  «  yes !"  it  was  to  be  a  race.  Popcorn  jumped 
about  like  a  pea  on  a  griddle,  and  fretted  greatly — he 
was  all  over  in  a  lather  of  sweat.  He  was  managed 
very  judiciously,  and  every  attempt  was  made  to  soothe 
him  and  keep  him  cool,  though  he  evidently  was  some 
what  exhausted.  All  this  time  Grapevine  was  led  about 
as  cool  as  a  cucumber,  an  awkward-looking  striker  of 
old  Thompson's  holding  her  by  the  cheek  of  the  bridle, 
with  instructions,  I  presume,  not  to  let  loose  in  any  casey 
as  he  managed  adroitly  to  be  turning  round  whenever 
Popcorn  put  the  question. 

Old  Tompkins  had  been  sitting  doubled  up  sideways, 
on  his  sleepy-looking  old  horse — it  now  being  near  dark 
— rode  slowly  off  a  short  distance,  and  hitched  his 
horse  :  he  deliberately  took  off  his  coat,  folded  it  care 


20         A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY. 

fully,  and  laid  it  on  a  stump  ;  his  neckcloth  was  with 
equal  care  deposited  on  it,  and  then  his  weather-beaten 
hat ;  he  stroked  down  the  few  remaining  hairs  on  his 
caput,  and  came  and  took  the  mare  from  his  striker. 
Crump  was  anxious  for  a  start,  as  his  horse  was  worsted 
by  delay ;  and  as  soon  as  he  saw  Grapevine  in  motion 
to  please  her  turner,  Old  Tompkins  swung  her  off 
ahead,  shouting  triumphantly,  «  Go !  d — n  you !"  and 
away  she  went  with  an  ungovernable.  Crump  wheeled 
his  horse  round  before  reaching  the  poles,  and  opened 
on  Old  Tompkins — «  That's  no  way  ;  if  you  mean  to 
run,  let  us  run,  and  quit  fooling ;  you  should  say  <  Yes !' 
if  you  mean  it  to  be  a  race,  and  then  I  would  have 
turned  loose,  had  my  nag  been  tail  forward ;  it  was  no 
use  for  me  to  let  go,  as  it  would  have  been  no  race  any 
how  until  you  give  the  word." 

Old  Tomkins  looked  as  if  the  boat  had  left  him,  or 
like  the  fellow  that  was  fighting,  and  discovered  that 
he  had  been  biting  his  own  thumb.  He  paused  a  mo 
ment,  and  without  trying  to  raise  a  squabble,  (an  unu 
sual  thing,)  he  broke  down  the  track  to  his  mare, 
slacked  her  girths,  and  led  her  back,  soothing  and  trying 
to  quiet  her.  She  was  somewhat  blown  by  the  run, 
as  the  little  imp  on  her  was  not  strong  enough  to  take 
her  up  soon.  They  were  now  so  good  and  so  good, 
and  he  proposed  they  should  lead  up  and  take  a  fair 
start.  ."Oh!"  said  Crump,  "I  thought  that  would 
bring  you  to  your  milk,  so  lead  up."  By  this  time  you, 
could  see  a  horse  twenty  yards  off,  but  you  could  not 
be  positive  as  to  his  colour.  It  was  proposed  to  call 
in  candles.  The  horses  were  led  up,  and  got  off  the 
first  trial.  «  Ready?"  "Yes!" — and  a  fairer  start 
was  never  made.  Away  they  went  in  a  hurry, 
"  Glimmering  through  the  gloam." 


A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY.         21 

All  hands  made  for  the  winning  post.  Here  I  heard 
— "  Mare's  race  !" — «  No  !  she  crossed  over  the  horse's 
path !"— «  The  boy  with  the  shirt  rode  foul !"— «  The 
horse  was  ahead  when  he  passed  me  !"  After  much 
squabbling,  it  was  admitted  by  both  parties  that  the 
nag  that  came  out  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  track 
was  ahead  ;  but  they  were  about  equally  divided  as  to 
whether  the  horse  or  the  mare  came  through  on  the 
left-hand  side.  The  judges  of  the  start  agreed  to  give 
it  in  as  even.  When  they  came  down,  it  appeared 
that  one  of  the  outcome  judges  got  angry,  and  had 
gone  home  an  hour  ago.  My  friend  that  looked  so 
many  ways  for  Sunday,  after  a  very  ominous  silence, 
and  waiting  until  frequently  appealed  to,  gave  the  race 
to  the  horse  by  ten  inches.  This  brought  a  yell  from 
the  crowd,  winners  and  losers,  that  beat  any  thing 
yet ;  a  dozen  of  men  were  produced,  who  were  ready 
to  swear  that  gimblet-eye  was  a  hundred  yards  off, 
drinking  a  stiff  cock-tail  at  the  booth,  and  that  he  was 
at  the  far  side  of  it  when  the  horses  came  out,  and 
consequently  must  have  judged  the  result  through  two 
pine  planks  an  inch  thick  ;  others  swore  he  did  not 
know  when  the  race  was  won,  and  was  not  at  the  post 
for  five  minutes  after.  Babel  was  a  quiet  retired  place 
compared  with  the  little  assemblage  at  this  time  :  some 
bets  were  given  up,  occasional  symptoms  of  a  fight 
appeared,  a  general  examination  was  going  on  to  be 
assured  the  knife  was  in  the  pocket,  and  those  hard  to 
open  were  opened  and  slipped  up  the  sleeve;  the 
crowd  clustered  together  like  a  bee-swarm.  This  con 
tinued  until  about  nine  o'clock,  when  Crump,  finding 
he  could  not  get  the  stakes,  compromised  the  matter, 
and  announced  that  by  agreement  it  was  a  drawn  race. 
B 


22        A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY. 

This  was  received  with  a  yell  louder,  if  possible,  than 
any  former  one  ;  every  one  seemed  glad  of  it,  and  there 
was  a  unanimous  adjournment  to  the  bar.  Though 
tired  and  weary,  I  confess  that  I  (for  no  earthly  reason 
that  I  can  give  but  the  force  of  example)  was  inclined 
to  join  them,  when  I  was  accosted  by  a  person  with 
whom  I  had  bet,  and  had  staked  in  the  hands  of  the 
young  man  riding  the  wall-eyed  horse.  «  Well,"  said 
he,  "  shell  out  my  five  dollars  that  I  put  up  with  that 
friend  of  yours — as  I  can't  find  Aim."  I  protested  that 
I  did  not  know  the  young  man  at  all,  and  stated  that 
he  had  my  stake  also.  He  replied  that  I  need  not  try 
to  feed  him  on  soft  corn  that  way,  and  called  on  several 
persons  to  prove  that  I  selected  the  stakeholder,  and 
we  were  seen  together,  and  we  must  be  acquainted,  as 
we  were  \>o\hfurreigners  from  the  cut  of  our  coats.  He 
began  to  talk  hostile,  and  was,  as  they  brag  in  the 
timber  districts,  twenty  foot  in  the  clear,  without  limb, 
knot,  windshake,  or  woodpecker  hole.  To  appease 
him,  I  agreed,  if  the  stakeholder  could  not  be  found, 
to  be  responsible  for  his  stake.  He  very  industriously 
made  proclamation  for  the  young  man  with  the  wall 
eyed  horse,  and  being  informed  that  he  had  done  gone 
three  hours  ago,  he  claimed  of  rne,  and  I  had  to  shell 
out. 

Feeling  somewhat  worsted  by  this  transaction,  I  con 
cluded  I  would  look  up  my  other  bets.  Mr.  Wash  I 
did  not  see,  and  concluded  he  had  retired  ;  I  found 
the  stakeholder  that  assisted  about  the  bar,  and  claimed 
my  five  dollars  on  the  draw  race ;  to  my  surprise  I 
learned  he  had  given  up  the  stakes.  Having  been 
previously  irritated,  I  made  some  severe  remarks,  to 
all  of  which  he  replied  in  perfect  good  temper,  and 


A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY.        23 

assured  me  he  was  the  most  punctilious  person  in  the 
world  about  such  matters,  and  that  it  was  his  invariable 
rule  never  to  give  up  stakes  except  by  the  direction  of 
some  of  the  judges,  and  called  up  proof  of  his  having 
declined  delivering  the  stakes  until  he  and  the  claimant 
went  to  old  screw-eye ;  and  he  decided  I  had  lost. 
This  seemed  to  put  the  matter  out  of  dispute  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned,  but  thinking  I  would  make  an  ap 
peal  to  my  opponent,  I  inquired  if  he  knew  him.  He 
satisfied  me,  by  assuring  me  he  did  not  know  him  from 
a  side  of  sole  leather. 

I  left  the  course,  and  on  returning  next  morning,  I 
looked  out  for  Mr.  Wash ;  I  discovered  him  drinking,  and 
offering  large  bets ;  he  saw  me  plainly,  but  affected  a 
perfect  forgetfulness,  and  did  not  recognise  me.  After 
waiting  some  time,  and  finding  he  would  not  address 
me,  I  approached  him,  and  requested  an  opportunity 
of  speaking  to  him  apart.  Mr.  Wash  instantly  accom 
panied  me,  and  began  telling  me  he  had  got  in  a  scrape, 
and  had  never  in  his  life  been  in  such  a  fix.  Perceiv 
ing  what  he  was  at,  I  concluded  to  take  the  whip-hand 
of  him,  and  observed — «  Mr.  Wash,  if  you  design  to 
intimate  by  your  preliminary  remarks  that  you  cannot 
return  to  me  my  own  money,  staked  in  your  hands,  I 
must  say  I  consider  such  conduct  extremely  ungentle- 
manly."  Upon  this  he  whipped  out  a  spring-back 
dirk  knife,  nine  inches  in  the  blade,  and  whetted  to  cut 
a  hair,  stepped  off,  picked  up  a  piece  of  cedar,  and 
commenced  whittling.  "Now,  stranger,"  says  he, 
"I  would  not  advise  any  man  to  try  to  run  over  me, 
for  I  ask  no  man  any  odds  further  than  civility ;  I  con- 
sider*myself  as  honest  a  man  as  any  in  Harris  county, 
Kentucky ;  but  I'll  tell  you,  stranger,  exactly  how  it 


24        A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY. 

happened :  you  see,  when  you  offered  to  het  on  the 
sorrel,  I  was  out  of  soap,  but  it  was  too  good  a  chanct 
to  let  slip,  as  I  was  dead  sure  Popcorn  would  wTin ; 
and  if  he  had  won,  you  know,  of  course  it  made  no 
difference  to  you  whether  I  had  a  stake  or  not.  Well, 
it  was  none  of  my  business  to  hunt  you  up,  so  I  went 
to  town  last  night  to  the  confectionary,  [a  whisky 
shop  in  a  log  pen  fourteen  feet  square,]  and  I  thought 
I'd  make  a  rise  on  chuck-a-luck,  but  you  prehaps  never 
saw  such  a  run  of  luck ;  everywhere  I  touched  was 
pizen,  and  I  came  out  of  the  leetle  end  of  the  horn  ;  but 
I'll  tell  you  what,  Fm  a  man  that  always  stands  up 
to  my  fodder,  rack  or  no  rack  ;  so,  as  you  don't  want 
the  money,  I'll  negotiate  to  suit  you  exactly ;  I'll  give 
you  my  dubisary:  I  don't  know  that  I  can  pay  it  this 
year,  unless  the  crap  of  hemp  turns  out  well ;  but  if  I 
can't  this  year,  I  will  next  year  probably ;  and  I'll  tell 
you  exactly  my  principle — if  a  man  waits  with  me  like 
a  gentleman,  I'm  sure  to  pay  him  when  I'm  ready; 
but  if  a  man  tries  to  bear  down  on  me  and  make  me 
pay  whether  or  no,  you  see  it  is  his  own  look  out,  and 
he'll  see  sights  before  he  gets  his  money."  My  respect 
for  Mr.  Wash's  dirk-knife,  together  with  my  perceiving 
there  was  nothing  else  to  be  had,  induced  me  to  ex 
press  my  entire  satisfaction  with  Mr.  Wash's  dubisary, 
hoping  at  the  same  time  that  at  least  enough  of  hemp 
would  grow  that  year.  He  proposed  that  I  should  let 
him  have  five  dollars  more  for  a  stake,  but  on  my  de 
clining,  he  said,  "  Well,  there  is  no  harm  in  mentioning 
it."  He  went  to  the  bar,  borrowed  pen  and  ink,  and 
presently  returned  with  a  splendid  specimen  of  cali- 
graphy  to  the  following  effect : — 


A  QUARTER  RACE  IN  KENTUCKY.         25 

}      Due  Dempsey,  the  just  and 
State  of  Kentucky,   1^  sum  rf  ten    doll         for 

Jessamine  county,     i      •,  ,  , ,  ,, 

J      3  value  received,  payable  on  the 

26th  day  of  December,  1836  or  1837,  or  any  time  after 
that  I  am  able  to  discharge  the  same.  As  witness  my 
hand  and  seal,  this  30th  day  of  May,  1836, 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON  BRIGGS.    \  SEAL  I 

n*  * ' 

I  wish  you  would  try  Wall  street  with  this  paper,  as 
I  wish  to  cash  it ;  but  I'll  run  a  mile  before  I  wait  for 
a  quarter  race  again. 


A  SHARK  STORY. 


BY  "  J.  CYPRESS,  JR.,"  THE  LATE  WM.  P.  HA  WES,  ESQ. 
OF  NEW  YORK. 


No  native  writer  of  his  age,  probably,  ever  acquired  so  enviable 
a  reputation  at  home  and  abroad,  as  was  universally  accorded 
to  the  late  lamented  WM.  P.  HAWES,  Esq.,  of  New  York, 
whose  sketches,  under  the  signature  of  "  J.  CYPRESS,  Jr.," 
were  everywhere  sought  for,  and  read  with  the  highest  degree 
of  interest.  A  collection  of  his  contributions  to  the  press  was 
published  two  or  three  years  since,  under  the  title  of  "  Country 
Scenes  and  Sundry  Sketches"  (edited  by  "  FRANK  FORESTER,") 
to  which  attention  is  invited  as  being  one  of  the  most  humor 
ous  original  works  in  the  language.  The  capital  story  sub 
joined  will  give  a  very  good  idea  of  his  style. 

"  WELL,  gentlemen,  I'll  go  ahead,  if  you  say  so. 
Here's  the  story.  It  is  true,  upon  my  honour,  from 
beginning  to  end — every  word  of  it.  I  once  crossed 
over  to  Faulkner's  island  to  fish  for  tautaugs,  as  the 
north-side  people  call  black  fish,  on  the  reefs  hard  by,  in 
the  Long  Island  Sound.  Tim  Titus  (who  died  of  the 
dropsy  down  at  Shinnecock  point,  last  spring)  lived 
there  then.  Tim  was  a  right  good  fellow,  only  he 
drank  rather  too  much. 

« It  was  during  the  latter  part  of  July ;  the  sharks 
and  the  dog-fish  had  just  began  to  spoil  sport.  When 
Tim  told  me  about  the  sharks,  I  resolved  to  go  pre 
pared  to  entertain  these  aquatic  savages  with  all  be 
coming  attention  and  regard,  if  there  should  chance  to 
26 


A    SHARK    STORY.  27 

be  any  interloping  about  our  fishing  ground.  So,  we 
rigged  out  a  set  of  extra  large  hooks,  and  shipped  some 
ropeyarn  and  steel  chain,  an  axe,  a  couple  of  clubs, 
and  an  old  harpoon,  in  addition  to  our  ordinary  equip 
ments,  and  off  we  started.  We  threw  out  oir  anchor 
at  half-ebb  tide,  and  took  some  thumping  large  fish : 
two  of  them  weighed  thirteen  pounds — so  you  may 
judge.  The  reef  where  we  lay  was  about  half  a  mile 
from  the  island,  and,  perhaps,  a  mile  from  the  Connecti 
cut  shore.  We  floated  there,  very  quietly,  throwing 
out  and  hauling  in,  until  the  breaking  of  my  line,  with 
a  sudden  and  severe  jerk,  informed  me  that  the  sea 
attorneys  were  in  waiting,  down  stairs  ;  and  we  accord 
ingly  prepared  to  give  them  a  retainer.  A  salt  pork 
cloak  upon  one  of  our  magnum  hooks  forthwith  en 
gaged  one  of  the  gentlemen  in  our  service.  We  got 
him  alongside,  and  by  dint  of  piercing,  and  thrusting, 
and  banging,  we  accomplished  a  most  exciting  and 
merry  murder.  We  had  business  enough  of  the  kind 
to  keep  us  employed  until  near  low  water.  By  this 
time,  the  sharks  had  all  cleared  out,  and  the  black  fish 
were  biting  again ;  the  rock  began  to  make  its  appear 
ance  above  the  water,  and  in  a  little  while  its  hard  bald 
head  was  entirely  dry.  Tim  now  proposed  to  set  me 
out  upon  the  rock,  while  he  rowed  ashore  to  get  the 
jug,  which,  strange  to  say,  we  had  left  at  the  house. 
I  assented  to  this  proposition  ;  first,  because  I  began  to 
feel  the  effects  of  the  sun  upon  my  tongue,  and  needed 
somethingto  take,  bythe  way  of  medicine;  and  secondly, 
because  the  rock  was  a  favourite  spot  for  rod  and  reel, 
and  famous  for  luck:  so  I  took  my  traps,  and  a  box  of 
bait,  and  jumped  upon  my  new  station.  Tim  made 
for  the  island. 


28  A.    SHARK    STORY. 

«  Not  many  men  would  willingly  have  been  left  upon 
a  little  barren  reef  that  was  covered  by  every  flow  of 
the  tide,  in  the  midst  of  a  waste  of  waters,  at  such  a 
distance  from  the  shore,  even  with  an  assurance  from 
a  companion  more  to  be  depended  upon  than  mine, 
that  he  would  return  immediately  and  take  him  off.  But 
some  how  or  other,  the  excitement  of  my  sport  was  so 
high,  and  the  romance  of  the  situation  was  so  delight 
ful,  that  I  thought  of  nothing  else  but  the  prospect  of 
my  fun,  and  the  contemplation  of  the  novelty  and 
beauty  of  the  scene.  It  was  a  mild,  pleasant  afternoon, 
in  harvest  time.  The  sky  was  clear  and  pure.  The 
deep  blue  sound,  heaving  all  around  me,  was  studded 
with  craft  of  all  descriptions  and  dimensions,  from  the 
dipping  sail-boat  to  the  rolling  merchantman,  sinking 
and  rising  like  sea-birds  sporting  with  their  white  wings 
in  the  surge.  The  grain  and  grass  on  the  neighbouring 
farms  were  gold  and  green,  and  gracefully  they  bent 
obeisance  to  a  gently  breathing  south-wester.  Farther 
off,  the  high  upland,  and  the  distant  coast,  gave  a  dim 
relief  to  the  prominent  features  of  the  landscape,  and 
seemed  the  rich  but  dusky  frame  of  a  brilliant  fairy 
picture.  Then,  how  still  it  was !  not  a  sound  could 
be  heard,  except  the  occasional  rustling  of  my  own 
motion,  and  the  water  beating  against  the  sides, 
or  gurgling  in  the  fissures  of  the  rock,  or  except  now 
and  then  the  cry  of  a  solitary  saucy  gull,  who  would 
come  out  of  his  way  in  the  firmament,  to  see  what  I 
was  doing  without  a  boat,  all  alone,  in  the  middle  of 
the  sound ;  and  who  would  hover,  and  cry,  and  chat 
ter,  and  make  two  or  three  circling  swoops  and  dashes 
at  me,  and  then,  after  having  satisfied  his  curiosity, 
glide  away  in  search  of  some  other 'food  to  scream  at. 


A   SHARK    STORY.  29 

"I  soon  became  half  indolent,  and  quite  indifferent 
about  fishing ;  so  I  stretched  myself  out  at  full  length 
upon  the  rock,  and  gave  myself  up  to  the  luxury  of 
looking  and  thinking.  The  divine  exercise  soon  put 
me  fast  asleep.  I  dreamed  away  a  couple  of  hours, 
and  longer  might  have  dreamed,  but  for  a  tired  fish- 
hawk  who  chose  to  make  my  head  his  resting  place, 
and  who  waked  and  started  me  to  my  feet. 

«  <  Where  is  Tim  Titus?'  I  muttered  to  myself,  as  I 
strained  my  eyes .  over  the  now  darkened  water.  But 
none  was  near  me  to  answer  that  interesting  question, 
and  nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  either  Tim  or  his  boat. 
<  He  should  have  been  here  long  ere  this,7  thought  I,  <and 
he  promised  faithfully  not  to  stay  long — could  he  have 
forgotten  ?  or  has  he  paid  too  much  devotion  to  the  jug  ?' 

"I  began  to  feel  uneasy,  for  the  tide  was  rising  fast, 
and  soon  would  cover  the  top  of  the  rock,  and  high  water 
mark  was  at  least  a  foot  above  my  head.  I  buttoned 
up  my  coat,  for  either  the  -coming  coolness  of  the  even 
ing,  or  else  my  growing  apprehensions,  had  set  me 
trembling  and  chattering  most  painfully.  I  braced  my 
nerves,  and  set  my  teeth,  and  tried  to  hum  *  Begone, 
dull  care,'  keeping  time  with  my  fists  upon  my  thighs. 
But  what  music  !  what  melancholy  merriment !  I  started 
and  shuddered  at  the  doleful  sound  of  my  own  voice. 
I  am  not  naturally  a  coward ;  but  I  should  like  to  know 
the  man  who  would  not,  in  such  a  situation,  be  alarmed. 
It  is  a  cruel  death  to  die  to  be  merely  drowned,  and  to 
go  through  the  ordinary  common-places  of  suffocation ; 
but  to  see  your  death  gradually  rising  to  your  eyes,  to 
feel  the  water  rising,  inch  by  inch,  upon  your  shivering 
sides,  and  to  anticipate  the  certainly  coming,  choking 
struggle  for  your  last  breath,  when,  with  the  gurglitfg 


30  A    SHARK    STORY. 

sound  of  an  overflowing  brook  taking  a  new  direction, 
the  cold  brine  pours  into  mouth,  ears,  and  nostrils, 
usurping  the  seat  and  avenues  of  health  and  life,  and, 
with  gradual  flow,  stifling — smothering — suffocating' 
It  were  better  to  die  a  thousand  common  deaths. 

"  This  is  one  of  the  instances  in  which,  it  must  be 
admitted,  salt  water  is  not  a  pleasant  subject  of  con 
templation.  However,  the  rock  was  not  yet  covered, 
and  hope,  blessed  hope,  stuck  faithfully  by  me.  To 
beguile,  if  possible,  the  weary  time,  I  put  on  a  bait, 
and  threw  out  for  fish.  I  was  sooner  successful  than 
I  could  have  wished  to  be,  for  hardly  had  my  line 
struck  the  water,  before  the  hook  was  swallowed,  and 
my  rod  was  bent  with  the  dead  hard  pull  of  a  twelve 
foot  shark.  I  let  him  run  about  fifty  yards,  and  then 
reeled  up.  He  appeared  not  at  all  alarmed,  and  I 
could  scarcely  feel  him  bear  upon  my  fine  hair  line. 
He  followed  the  pull  gently  and  unresisting,  came  up 
to  the  rock,  laid  his  nose  upon  its  side,  and  looked  up 
into  my  face,  not  as  if  utterly  unconcerned,  but  with  a 
sort  of  quizzical  impudence,  as  though  he  perfectly  un 
derstood  the  precarious  nature  of  my  situation.  The 
conduct  of  my  captive  renewed  and  increased  my 
alarm.  And  well  it  might ;  for  the  tide  was  now  run 
ning  over  a  corner  of  the  rock  behind  me,  and  a  small 
stream  rushed  through  a  cleft,  or  fissure,  by  my  side, 
and  formed  a  puddle  at  my  very  feet.  I  broke  my 
hook  out  of  the  monster's  mouth,  and  leaned  upon  my 
rod  for  support. 

"  <  Where  is  Tim  Titus  ?' — I  cried  aloud — «  Curse  on 
the  drunken  vagabond!  Will  he  never  come?' 

"My  ejaculations  did  no  good.  No  Timothy  ap 
peared.  It  became  evident  that  I  must  prepare  for 


A    SHARK    STORY.  31 

drowning,  or  for  action.  The  reef  was  completely  co 
vered,  and  the  water  was  above  the  soles  of  my  feet. 
I  was  not  much  of  a  swimmer,  and  as  to  ever  reaching 
the  island,  I  could  not  even  hope  for  that.  However, 
there  was  no  alternative,  and  I  tried  to  encourage  my 
self,  by  reflecting  that  necessity  was  the  mother  of  in 
vention,  and  that  desperation  will  sometimes  insure 
success.  Besides,  too,  I  considered  and  took  comfort 
from  the  thought  that  I  could  wait  for  Tim,  so  long  as  I 
had  a  foothold,  and  then  commit  myself  to  the  uncer 
tain  strength  of  my  arms  and  legs  for  salvation.  So  I 
turned  my  bait-box  upside  down,  and  mounting  upon 
that,  endeavoured  to  comfort  my  spirits,  and  to  be 
courageous,  but  submissive  to  my  fate.  I  thought  of 
death,  and  what  it  might  bring  with  it,  and  I  tried  to 
repent  of  the  multiplied  iniquities  of  my  almost  wasted 
life ;  but  I  found  that  that  was  no  place  for  a  sinner  to 
settle  his  accounts.  Wretched  soul,  pray  I  could  not. 

"  The  water  had  not  got  above  my  ankles,  when,  to 
my  inexpressible  joy,  I  saw  a  sloop  bending  down 
towards  me,  with  the  evident  intention  of  picking  me 
up.  No  man  can  imagine  what  were  the  sensations  of 
gratitude  which  filled  my  bosom  at  that  moment. 

«  When  she  got  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  reef,  I 
sung  out  to  the  man  at  the  helm  to  luff  up,  and  lie  by, 
and  lower  the  boat ;  but,  to  my  amazement,  I  could  get 
no  reply,  nor  notice  of  my  request.  I  entreated  them, 
for  the  love  of  heaven,  to  take  me  off;  and  I  promised, 
I  know  not  w.hat  re  wards,  that  were  entirely  beyond  my 
power  of  bestowal.  But  the  brutal  wretch  of  a  captain, 
muttering  something  to  the  effect  of  « that  he  hadn't 
time  to  stop,'  and  giving  me  the  kind  and  sensible 
advice  to  pull  off  my  coat  and  swim  ashore,  put  the 


32  A    SHARK    STORY. 

helm  hard  down,  and  away  bore  the  sloop  on  the 
tack. 

«  <  Heartless  villain  !' — I  shrieked  out,  in  the  torture 
of  my  disappointment ;  « may  God  reward  your  inhu 
manity.'  The  crew  answered  my  prayer  with  a  coarse, 
loud  laugh  ;  and  the  cook  asked  me  through  a  speaking 
trumpet,  <  If  I  was  not  afraid  of  catching  cold.' — The 
black  rascal ! 

"  It  now  was  time  to  strip ;  for  my  knees  felt  the 
cool  tide,  and  the  wind,  dying  away,  left  a  heavy  swell, 
that  swayed  and  shook  the  box  upon  which  I  was 
mounted,  so  that  I  had  occasionally  to  stoop,  and  pad 
dle  with  my  hands  against  the  water,  in  order  to  pre 
serve  my  perpendicular.  The  setting  sun  sent  his 
almost  horizontal  streams  of  fire  across  the  dark  waters, 
making  them  gloomy  and  terrific,  by  the  contrast  of  his 
amber  and  purple  glories. 

«  Something  glided  by  me  in  the  water,  and  then 
made  a  sudden  halt.  I  looked  upon  the  black  mass, 
and,  as  my  eye  ran  along  its  dark  outline,  I  saw,  with 
horror,  that  it  was  a  shark ;  the  identical  monster  out 
of  whose  mouth  I  had  just  broken  my  hook.  He  was 
fishing  now  for  me,  and  was  evidently  only  waiting  for 
the  tide  to  rise  high  enough  above  the  rock,  to  glut  at 
once  his  hunger  and  revenge.  As  the  water  continued 
to  mount  above  my  knees,  he  seemed  to  grow  more 
hungry  and  familiar.  At  last,  he  made  a  desperate 
dash,  and  approaching  within  an  inch  of  my  legs, 
turned  upon  his  back,  and  opened  his  huge  jaws  for  an 
attack.  With  desperate  strength,  I  thrust  the  end  of 
my  rod  violently  at  his  mouth ;  and  the  brass  head, 
ringing  against  his  teeth,  threw  him  back  into  the  deep 
current,  and  I  lost  sight  of  him  entirely.  This,  however, 


A  SHARK  STORY. 

As  I  looked  around  me  to  t-ee  what  had  become  of  the  robbers,  I  counted  one, 

two,  three,  yes,  up  to  twelve,  successively,  of  the  largest 

sharks  I  ever  saw.'' — Page  33. 


A    SHARK    STORY.  33 

was  but  a  momentary  repulse  ;  for  in  the  next  minute 
he  was  close  behind  my  back,  and  pulling  at  the  skirts 
of  my  fustian  coat,  which  hung  dipping  into  the  water. 
I  leaned  forward  hastily,  and  endeavoured  to  extricate 
myself  from  the  dangerous  grasp;  but  the  monster's 
teeth  were  too  firmly  set,  and  his  immense  strength 
nearly  drew  me  over.  So,  down  flew  my  rod,  and  off 
went  my  jacket,  devoted  peace-offerings  to  my  vora 
cious  visiter. 

«  In  an  instant,  the  waves  all  round  me  were  lashed 
into  froth  and  foam.  No  sooner  was  my  poor  old 
sporting  friend  drawn  under  the  surface,  than  it  was 
fought  for  by  at  least  a  dozen  enormous  combatants ! 
The  battle  raged  upon  every  side.  High  black  fins 
rushed  now  here,  now  there,  and  long,  strong  tails 
scattered  sleet  and  froth,  and  the  brine  was  thrown  up 
in  jets,  and  eddied,  and  curled,  and  fell,  and  swelled, 
like  a  whirlpool  in  Hell-gate. 

"Of  no  long  duration,  however,  was  this  fishy  tour 
ney.  It  seemed  soon  to  be  discovered  that  the  prize 
contended  for  contained  nothing  edible  but  cheese  and 
crackers,  and  no  flesh  ;  and  as  its  mutilated  fragments 
rose  to  the  surface,  the  waves  subsided  into  their  former 
smooth  condition.  Not  till  then  did  I  experience  the 
real  terrors  of  my  situation.  As  I  looked  around  me  to 
see  what  had  become  of  the  robbers,  I  counted  one, 
two,  three,  yes,  up  to  twelve,  successively,  of  the 
largest  sharks  I  ever  saw,  floating  in  a  circle  around  me, 
like  divergent  rays,  all  mathematically  equidistant  from 
the  rock,  and  from  each  other;  each  perfectly  motion 
less,  and  with  his  gloating,  fiery  eye,  fixed  full  and 
fierce  upon  me.  Basilisks  and  rattlesnakes !  how  the 
fire  of  their  steady  eyes  entered  into  my  heart !  I  was 


34  A    SHARK    STORiT. 

the  centre  of  a  circle,  whose  radii  were  sharks !  I  was 
the  unsprung,  or  rather  unchewed  game,  at  which  a  pack 
of  hunting  sea-dogs  were  making  a  dead  point ! 

«  There  was  one  old  fellow,  that  kept  within  the  cir 
cumference  of  the  circle.  He  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of 
captain,  or  leader  of  the  band ;  or,  rather,  he  acted  as 
the  coroner  for  the  other  twelve  of  the  inquisition,  that 
were  summoned  to  sit  on,  and  eat  up  my  body.  He 
glided  around  and  about,  and  every  now  and  then 
would  stop,  and  touch  his  nose  against  some  one  of  his 
comrades,  and  seem  to  consult,  or  to  give  instructions 
as  to  the  time  and  mode  of  operation.  Occasionally, 
he  would  skull  himself  up  towards  me,  and  examine 
the  condition  of  my  flesh,  and  then  again  glide  back, 
and  rejoin  the  troupe,  and  flap  his  tail,  and  have  ano 
ther  confabulation.  The  old  rascal  had,  no  doubt,  been 
out  into  the  highways  and  byways,  and  collected  this 
company  of  his  friends  and  kin-fish,  and  invited  them 
to  supper.  I  must  confess,  that  horribly  as  I  felt,  I 
could  not  help  but  think  of  a  tea  party,  of  demure  old 
maids,  sitting  in  a  solemn  circle,  with  their  skinny  hands 
in  their  laps,  licking  their  expecting  lips,  while  their 
hostess  bustles  about  in  the  important  functions  of  her 
preparations.  With  what  an  eye  have  I  seen  such  appur 
tenances  of  humanity  survey  the  location  and  adjustment 
of  some  especial  condiment,  which  is  about  to  be  sub 
mitted  to  criticism  and  consumption. 

"  My  sensations  began  to  be,  now,  most  exquisite 
indeed  ;  but  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  them.  I  was 
neither  hot  nor  cold,  frightened  nor  composed  ;  but  I 
had  a  combination  of  all  kinds  of  feelings  and  emo 
tions.  The  present,  past,  future,  heaven,  earth,  my 
father  and  mother,  a  little  girl  J  knew  once,  and  the 


A    SHARK    STORY.  35 

sharks,  were  all  confusedly  mixed  up  together,  and 
swelled  my  crazy  brain  almost  to  bursting.  I  cried, 
and  laughed,  and  spouted,  and  screamed  for  Tim 
Titus.  In  a  fit  of  most  wise  madness,  I  opened  my 
broad-bladed  fishing  knife,  and  waved  it  around  my 
head  with  an  air  of  defiance.  As  the  tide  continued 
to  rise,  my  extravagance  of  madness  mounted.  At 
one  time,  I  became  persuaded  that  my  tide-waiters 
were  reasonable  beings,  who  might  be  talked  into  mercy 
and  humanity,  if  a  body  could  only  hit  upon  the  right 
text.  So,  I  bowed,  and  gesticulated,  and  threw  out  my 
hands,  and  talked  to  them,  as  friends,  and  brothers, 
members  of  my  family,  cousins,  uncles,  aunts,  people 
waiting  to  have  their  bills  paid ; — I  scolded  them  as  my 
servants ;  I  abused  them  as  duns  ;  I  implored  them  as 
jurymen  sitting  on  the  question  of  my  life  ;  I  congratu 
lated,  and  flattered  them  as  my  comrades  upon  some 
glorious  enterprise  ;  I  sung  and  ranted  to  them,  now  as 
an  actor  in  a  play-house,  and  now  as  an  elder  at  a 
camp-meeting  ;  in  one  moment,  roaring, 

'  On  this  cold  flinty  rock  I  will  lay  down  my  head,' — 

and  in  the  next,  giving  out  to  my  attentive  hearers  for 
singing,  a  hymn  of  Dr.  Watts  so  admirably  appropriate 
to  the  occasion, 

'  On  slippery  rocks  I  see  them  stand, 
While  fiery  billows  roll  below.' 

.  «  What  said  I,  what  did  I  not  say !  Prose  and  poe 
try,  scripture  and  drama,  romance  and  ratiocination — • 
out  it  came.  <  Quamdiu,  Catalina,  nostra  patientia  abu- 
tereT — I  sung  out  to  the  old  captain,  to  begin  with — 
<My  brave  associates,  partners  of  my  toil,' — so  ran  the 


36  A    SHARK    STORY. 

strain.  <  On  which  side  soever  I  turn  my  eyes,' — 
*  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,' — '  I  come  not  here  to  steal 
away  your  hearts,' — <  You  are  not  wood,  you  are  not 
stones,  but' — '  Hah  !' — '  Begin,  ye  tormentors,  your 
tortures  are  vain,' — ' Good  friends,  sweet  friends,  let 
me  not  stir  you  up  to  any  sudden  flood,' — '  The  angry 
flood  that  lashed  her  groaning  sides,' — '  Ladies  and 
gentlemen,' — '  My  very  noble  and  approved  good  mas 
ters,' — '  Avaunt !  and  quit  my  sight ;  let  the  earth 
hide  ye,' — 'Lie  lightly  on  his  head,  0  earth!' — <0! 
heaven  and  earth  !  that  it  should  come  to  this,' — '  The 
torrent  roared,  and  we  did  buffet  it  with  lusty  sinews, 
stemming  it  aside  and  oaring  it  with  hearts  of  contro 
versy,' — 'Give  me  some  drink,  Titinius,' — 'Drink, 
boys,  drink,  and  drown  dull  sorrow,' — '  For  liquor  it 
doth  roll  such  comfort  to  the  soul,' — '  Romans,  country 
men  and  lovers,  hear  me  for  my  cause,  and  be  silent 
that  you  may  hear,' — '  Fellow  citizens,  assembled  as 
we  are  upon  this  interesting  occasion,  impressed  with 
the  truth  and  beauty,' — <  Isle  of  beauty,  fare  thee  well,' 
— '  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained,' — '  Magna 
veritas  et  prevalebit,' — 'Truth  is  potent,  and' — 'Most 
potent,  grave,  and  reverend  seigniors, — 

4  Oh,  now  you  weep,  and  I  perceive  you  feel 
The  dint  of  pity ;  these  are  gracious  drops. 
Kind  souls  !  what !  weep  you  when  you  but  behold 
Our  Caesar's  vesture  wounded,' — 

Ha !  ha  !  ha ! — and  I  broke  out  in  a  fit  of  most  horrible 
Daughter,  as  I  thought  of  the  mincemeat  particles  of  my 
lacerated  jacket. 

"  In  the  mean  time,  the  water  had  got  well  up  towards 
my  shoulders,  and  while  I  was  shaking  and  vibrating 


A    SHARK    STORY.  37 

upon  my  uncertain  foot-hold,  I  felt  the  cold  nose  of  the 
captain  of  the  band  snubbing  against  my  side.  Despe 
rately,  and  without  a  definite  object,  I  struck  my  knife 
at  one  of  his  eyes,  and,  by  some  singular  fortune,  cut 
it  out  clean  from  the  socket.  The  shark  darted  back, 
and  halted.  In  an  instant,  hope  and  reason  came  to 
my  relief;  and  it  occurred  to  me,  that  if  I  could  only 
blind  the  monster,  I  might  yet  escape.  Accordingly, 
I  stood  ready  for  the  next  attack.  The  loss  of  an  eye 
did  not  seem  to  affect  him  much,  for,  after  shaking  his 
head  once  or  twice,  he  came  up  to  me  again,  and  when 
he  was  about  half  an  inch  off,  turned  upon  his  back. 
This  was  the  critical  moment.  With  a  most  unaccount 
able  presence  of  mind,  I  laid  hold  of  his  nose  with  my 
left  hand,  and  with  my  right  scooped  out  his  remain 
ing  organ  of  vision.  He  opened  his  big  mouth,  and 
champed  his  long  teeth  at  me,  in  despair.  But  it  was 
all  over  with  him.  I  raised  my  right  foot  and  gave  him 
a  hard  shove,  and  he  glided  off  into  deep  water,  and 
went  to  the  bottom. 

«  Well,  gentlemen,  I  suppose  you'd  think  it  a  hard 
story,  but  its  none  the  less  a  fact,  that  I  served  every 
remaining  one  of  those  nineteen  sharks  in  the  same 
fashion.  They  all  came  up  to  me,  one  by  one,  regu 
larly  and  in  order,  and  I  scooped  their  eyes  out,  and 
gave  them  a  shove,  and  they  went  off  into  deep  water, 
just  like  so  many  lambs.  By  the  time  I  had  scooped 
out  and  blinded  a  couple  of  dozen  of  them,  they  began 
to  seem  so  scarce  that  I  thought  I  would  swim  for  the 
island,  and  fight  the  rest  for  fun,  on  the  way ;  but  just 
then,  Tim  Titus  hove  in  sight,  and  it  had  got  to  be 
almost  dark,  and  I  concluded  to  get  aboard  and  rest 
myself." 

c 


LANTY  OLIPHANT  IN  COURT. 

BY   MAJ.    KELLY,    OF   LOUISIANA. 

The  writer  of  the  diverting  sketch  annexed  has  taken  leave  of  his 
editorial  sanctum,  and  "gone  to  the  wars ;"  in  other  words,  to 
Mexico,  where,  we  trust,  he  will  render  as  good  an  account 
of  himself  as  he  has  of  "  LANTY  OLIPHANT." 

LAWYERS  allege  that  there  are  four  classes  of  witnesses 
— those  who  prove  too  much,  those  who  prove  too  little, 
those  of  a  totally  negative  character,  and  those  of  no 
character  at  all,  who  will  prove  any  thing.  We  have  a 
case  in  point. 

Far,  very  far  away  from  the  tall  Blue  mountains,  at  a 
little  place  called  Sodom,  there  were  upon  a  time  three 
neighbours  called  in  as  arbitrators  to  settle  a  point,  rela 
tive  to  some  stolen  chickens,  in  dispute  between  one 
Lot  Corson  and  a  "  hard  case"  called  Emanuel  Allen, 
better  known  thereabout  as  King  of  the  Marsh. 

"  Mister  Constable,"  said  one  of  the  demi-judicials, 
"now  call  the  principal  witness." 

"Lanty  Oliphant!  Lanty  Olip-h-a-n-t !"  bawled 
Dogberry.  "Mosey  in  and  be  swore." 

In  obedience  to  this  summons,  little  Lanty,  whose 
bottle  had  usurped  the  place  in  his  affections  commonly 
assigned  to  soap  and  water,  waddled  up,  and  was  quali 
fied,  deprecating  by  a  look  the  necessity  aC  such  a  use- 
kss  ceremony  among  gentlemen. 
38 


LANTY  OLIPHANT  IN  COURT.  39 

"  Mister  Oliphant,  you  are  now  swore.  Do  you 
know  the  value  of  an  oath  ?"  asked  the  senior  of  the 
board. 

"  Doesn't  I !"  rejoined  Lanty,  with  a  wink  at  a  by 
stander.  "  Four  bushel  of  weight  wheat,  the  old  score 
wiped  off,  and  licker  for  the  hul  day  throw'd  in." 

This  matter-of-fact  answer  met  a  severe  frown  from 
the  man  with  the  red  ribbon  round  his  hat. 

"  Well,  Mister  Oliphant,"  continued  the  senior,  "tell 

all  you  know  about  this  here  case.  Bill  M k,  shoo 

your  dog  off  that  d — d  old  sow." 

Lanty  here  testified.  "  Feelin'  a  sort  of  outish  t'other 
day,  ses  I  to  the  old  woman,  ses  I,  I'll  jist  walk  over  to 
Lot's  and  take  a  nipper  or  two  this  mornin',  ses  I.  It'll 
take  the  wind  off  my  stomach  sorter,  ses  I.  Then  the 
old  woman's  feathers  riz,  they  did,  like  a  porkypine's 
bristles,  and  ses  she,  Lanty,  says  she,  if  you'd  on'y  aha 
more  bread  and  meat,  and  drink  less  whisky,  you 
would'nt  have  wrind  on  your  stomach.  Suse,  ses  I, 
this  is  one  of  my  resarved  rights,  and  I  goes  agin  home 
industry,  ses  I,  sort  o'  laughin'  out  o'  the  wrong  side  o' 
my  mouth.  '  Resarved  rights  or  desarved  wrongs,'  ses 
her,  { you'r  always  a  drinkin'  and  talkin'  politics  when 
you  orter  be  at  work,  and  there's  never  nothin'  to  eat 
in  the  house.'4  Well,  as  I  was  agoin  over  to  Lot's  jist 
fernent  where  the  fence  was,  ses  I  to  myself,  ses  I,  if 
there  is'nt  the  old  King's  critters  in  my  corn  field,  so  I'll 
jist  go  and  tell  him  on't.  When  I  gets  there,  Good 
mornin',  Lanty,  ses  he.  Good  mornin',  old  hoss,  ses  I, 
and  when  I  went  in,  there  was  a  pot  on  the  fire  a  cookin', 
with  a  great  big  speckled  rooster  in  it." 

"  Mister  Oliphant!"  here  interposed  one  of  the  arbi- 


40  LANTY  OLIPHANT  IN  COURT. 

trators.  "  Remember  that  you  are  on  oath.  How  do 
you  know  that  the  chicken  in  the  pot  was  c  a  big  spec 
kled  rooster  ?'  " 

"  'Kase  I  seed  the  feathers  at  the  woodpile!"  promptly 
responded  Lanty,  who  then  continued : 

"  Well,  when  I  gits  to  Lot's,  Good  mornin',  Lot,  ses 
I.  Good  mornin',  Lanty,  ses  he.  You  didn't  see  nothin' 
no  where  of  nar'  a  big  speckled  rooster  that  didn't  be 
long  to  nobody,  did  you  ?  ses  he.  Didn't  I  ?  ses  I, 
Come,  Lanty,  ses  he,  let's  take  a  nipper,  ses  he ;  and 
then  I  up  and  tells  him  all  about  it." 

"  Had  Mr.  Allen  no  chickens  of  his  own  ?"  asked  the 
senior. 

"Sartin',"  rejoined  Lanty ;  "  but  there  warn't  a 
rooster  in  the  crowd.  They  was  all  layiri*  hens  /" 

"  Well,"  inquired  another  of  the  referees,  "  how  many 
of  these  hens  had  Mr.  Allen  ?" 

This  question  fairly  "  stump'd"  Lanty  for  a  moment, 
but  he  quickly  answered : 

"  Why,  with  what  was  there,  and  what  wasn't  there, 
counting  little  and  big,  spring  chickens  and  all,  there 

f  forty  odd,  EXACTLY!" 

Ho  further  questions  were  put  to  this  witness! 


BILL  MORSE  ON  THE  CITY  TAXES. 

BY  "  BAGGS,"  OF  BOSTON,  MASS. 

The  following  sketch  is  the  first  of  a  series  which  have  appeared 
in  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  from  the  pen  of  a  young1  gentle 
man  of  Boston,  from  whom  "  great  things"  are  expected  "  one 
of  these  days." 

SOME  time  ago,  long  before  the  "  Boundary  Question" 
was  settled,  there  lived  upon  the  extreme  frontiers  of 
Maine  a  young  man  ycleped  "BiLL  MORSE."  He  sup 
ported  a  primitive  sort  of  establishment,  and  his  whole 
circle  of  acquaintance  consisted  of  some  half  a  dozen 
half-civilized  individuals,  residing  in  the  vicinity.  -His 
principal  occupations  were  killing  venison  and  felling 
trees ;  .and  reading  and  writing  were  accomplishments 
to  which  Bill  laid  no  claim. 

In  the  course  of  time,  however,  a  rich  relation — a 
Southern  planter  probably — happened  to  leave  this  world 
for  a  better,  and,  fortunately  for  Bill,  left  no  will  behind 
him.  By  a  curious  and  intricate  course  of  legal  pro 
ceedings  and  without  any  interference  on  his  part,  Bill 
Morse  found  himself  a  wealthy  man.  The  "  gentleman 
of  the  green  bag"  who  travelled  down  to  impart  this 
information,  conducted  Bill  to  Bangor,  and  then  having 
appointed  himself  Bill's  agent,  left  things  to  themselves. 
The  young  gentleman  came  out  in  due  time  in  very  bold 
colours,  and  having  always  plenty  of  money  at  his  dis 
posal,  enjoyed  himself  without  stint. 

Among  other  rents  through  which  his  surplus  cash 

41 


42  BILL   MORSE    ON    THE   CITY   TAXES. 

formed  a  ready  passage,  was  a  large  tax,  which  in  the 
course  of  the  year  was  assessed  upon  him.  The  bill  was 
presented,  but  for  the  life  of  him,  Bill  couldn't  make 
out.  its  meaning.  After  some  minutes'  attentive  scrutiny 
of  the  article,  he  proceeded  to  the  landlord  of  the  hotel 
where  he  visited. 

"  I  say,  landlord,"  said  he,  "  what's  this?" 

"  That,  Mr.  Morse,"  answered  the  landlord,  casting 
his  eyes  over  the  paper,  "  is  a  tax  bill." 

"  A  tax  bill,"  murmured  Bill,  regarding  it  with  an 
inquisitive  glance — "yes,  but  what's  that?" 

"  Why,"  answered  the  landlord  smiling,  "  it's  your 
proportion  of  the  expenses  of  the  city." 

"My  proportion!"  said  Bill.  "What,  does  every 
one  pay  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  landlord,  "  every  one  who 
can  afford  it." 

"  Oh,  I  can  afford  it,"  said  Bill,  who  was  here  touched 
upon  a  tender  point;  "  I'll  send  and  have  it  paid." 

The  bill  was  settled,  and  in  proper  time  a  second 
made  its  appearance.  Bill  hastened  to  the  landlord. 
"Look  here,"  said  he  in  astonishment,  "here's  another 
of  them  tax  bills!" 

"  Of  course,"  replied  the  landlord ;  "  they  come  once 
a  year." 

"  The  devil  they  do,"  cried  Bill ;  "  so  the  city  goes 
into  debt  every  year,  does  it  ?" 

"  Regularly,"  said  the  landlord  ;  "  it  can't  be  helped." 

"  Well,  then,  damn  me !"  cried  Bill  in  a  high  passion, 
"  if  the  city  hasn't  got  any  better  business  to  do  than  to 
keep  on  running  up  debts  for  me  to  help  her  out  because  1 
did  it  once,  sheHl  find  herself  extensively  mistaken — I'll 
see  her  d — d  before  I  give  her  another  red  cent!" 


ANCE  VEASY'S  FIGHT  WITH  REUB. 
SESSIONS. 

BY  "  AZUL,"  OF  MISSISSIPPI. 

The  writer  of  the  "good  *un"  subjoined  is  a  new  correspondent 
of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  with  whose  name  and  local 
habitation  the  editor  is  as  familiar  as  he  is  with  the  veritaole 
man-in-the-moon.  He  promises  to  be  a  valuable  acquisition 
to  the  number  of  our  native  humorists. 

"  ARE  you  in  favour  of  Biennial  Sessions  of  the  legis 
lature  ?"  asked  a  manager  of  an  election  in  Alabama,  of 
a  voter. 

"  Who  ?"  says  the  voter,  whose  name  was  ANCE  VEASY, 
and  withal,  tolerably  green. 

"  Are  you  in  favour  of  Biennial  Sessions  of  the  legis 
lature,  Sir  ?" 

"  Benial  Sessions !  I  don't  know  him.  Is  he  any 
kin  to  Reub.  Sessions  ?  Sir ;  ef  he  is  I'll  bed — d  ef  you 
ketch  me  a  votin  fur  him !  You  never  hearn  me  tell  about 
that  fite  I  had  long  wid  Reub.  Sessions,  up  in  Shelby, 
did  you  ?" 

c<  Never  mind  your  fights,  now,  Mr.  Veasy :  answer 
yea  or  nay." 

"  I  dosen't  know  what  you  mean  by  your  ya  and  na's, 
but  I'll  be  dod  rotted  ef  I  vote  fur  enny  uv  the  Sessions 
family,  no  how  you  can  fix  it !  Bah !  Benial  Sessions, 
indeed !  jest  as  much  fit  fur  Guvnur  as  h-11  is  fur  a  ice 
house!" 

43 


44      ANCE  VEASY'S  FIGHT  WITH  HECJB.  SESSIONS. 

"  Are  you  in  favour  of  the  removal  of  the  State  House, 
Mr.  Veasy?" 

"  Well  I  wonder  ef  tha  is  'gwine  too  move  the  State 
House  agin  ?  Why  tha  moved  it  only  two  or  three  years 
ago  to  Wetumpka.  I  don't  see  no  use  of  thar  movin  it 
enny  more — I  think  it's  in  a  very  good  place  myself,  I 
does  them,  punkins !"  ,.  *  ^ 

"  You  are  thinking  of  the  Penitentiary,  Mr.  Veasy. 
It's  the  State  House  they  wish  to  move!" 

"  Well,  it  taint  nothin  too  me  whether  tha  move  it  or 
not,  so  I  won't  vote  for  it,  nor  Benial  Sessions  nuther!" 

Several  now  pressed  around  Ance  to  get  him  to  tell 
about  his  fight  with  Reub.  Sessions,  up  in  Shelby.  He 
said  he  would  come  to  these  terms.  They  were  to  give 
him  a  good  drink  of  whisky,  and  he  was  to  give  them 
the  story.  They  agreed  to  it,  and  gave  him  the  whisky, 
and  he  commenced. 

"  You  see  a  passel  uv  us  fellers  made  up  a  camp-hunt 
betwixt  us,  and  Reub.,  he  went  with  us,  but  he  never 
tuck  no  gun,  kase  he  was  so  infurnal  lazy  that  he  woodn't 
even  take  a  stand  and  watch  fur  deer.  He  jest  went 
along  to  eat  wenzon  and  to  help  the  fellers  cook.  Well, 
the  fust  evenin  we  were  out,  we  killed  a  mitey  fine  tow 
hed  deer,  and  we  fotch  him  in  an  cooked  wun  quarter 
fur  supper.  Reub.  ett  'bout  half  uv  that  quarter ;  and 
arter  we  went  sleep,  and  'bout  midnite  I  got  awake  and 
razed  up,  and  thar  wuz  Reub.  eatin  away  like  he  was 
paid  fur  it.  I  never  sed  nuthin,  but  laid  down  and  went 
too  sleep :  an  'bout  daylite  I  waked  up  and  begun  too 
get  reddy  too  go  out  and  kill  sum  game,  and  I'll  be  dod 
durned  ef  Reub.  wuzn't  eatin  away  still,  or  ruther,  pickin 
the  bones,  fur  he  had  ett  up  all  the  hole  deer  an  wuz 


;  We  (it  round  and  round  about  the  barrels  and  boxes  'bout  half  an  hour."— 

P.ige  4o. 


SESSIONS.       45 

pickin  the  bones.  Git  up,  you  holler-legged,  pot-gutted, 
turkey-buzzard,  sez  I,  and  make  tracks  fur  home  jest  as 
fast  as  you  kin  poot  wun  leg  afore  the  tuther !  and  I  tuck 
the  feller  side  uv  the  hed  with  my  fist  and  sorter  turned 
him  over  ;  but  he  got  up  pooty  soon  and  done  sum  uv 
the  tallest  kind  uv  walking  fur  home. 

"  About  two  or  three  weeks  after  the  hunt  that  we 
wuz  all  at  Simmon's  grocery,  on  the  Montevallo  road,  an 
I  wuz  tellin  the  fellars  'bout  Reub.'s  eatin  a  hole  tow 
deer  an  nawin  the  bones  besides,  an  the  feller  got  rite 
ashy  'bout  it,  but  I  didn't  mind  him  nor  never  paid  no 
'tention  to  him,  till  he  bucked  up  too  me  an  give  me  a 
feller  rite  under  the  ear,  an  I  tell  ye  it  made  my  hed 
kinder  dizzy.  When  he  gin  me  the  fust  lick  it  made  me 
sorter  mad,  but  I  woodn't  a  minded  ef  he  hadn't  kept 
pilin  on  the  agony  'bout  my  ears  and  smeller.  When 
I  did  git  my  Norf  Carliner  up,  the  way  I  pitched  it  m 
too  him  was  a  caution  to  mules.  We  fit  round  and  round 
about  the  barrels  an  boxes  'bout  half  an  hour,  when  I  got 
his*hed  under  my  arm  an  I  made  him  squeal  immediantly, 
but  I  wuzn't  gwine  too  let  him  off  without  givin  him 
sumthin  too  'member  Ance  Veasy  by,  an  I  tell  you  fellers, 
I  natally  peeled  the  skin  off  his  face  an  then  I  turned  him 
loose.  He  tuck  up  his  hat,  an  when  I  sorter  turned  my 
back  too  him,  he  picked  up  an  ole  axe  helve  an  gin  me 
a  wipe  aside  the  hed  that  laid  me  cole  fur  a  while  I  tell 
you.  But  I  picked  myself  up  an  started  sorter  arter  him, 
but  he  wuz  on  his  hoss  an  fast  banishing  out  uv  site  over 
the  hill. 

"  The  sheriff  cum  an  tuck  me  up  an  tried  me  for  trying 
to  kill,  but  tha  found  me  requitted,  an  let  me  loose,  coz 
I  gin  mvself  up.  But  Reub.,  he  run  away,  kase  he  thort 


46 

how  he  had  killed  me,  an  he  stayed  away  two  or  three 
months ;  but  wen  he  heerd  as  how  I  wuzri't  ded,  he  cum 
back  an  the  sheriff  nabbed  him  an  carried  him  too  the 
Cort-house,  an  tride  him  fur  salt  and  batter  an  murder 
with  intent  too  kill.  Tha  found  him  requitted  of  murder, 
but  tha  found  him  gilty  uv  salt  an  batter.  I  didn't  see 
enny  salt  in  the  fite,  but  thar  wuz  sum  batterin  done, 
but  I  done  all  the  batterin  myself,  except  wot  he  done 
with  the  axe  helve.  I  don't  think  the  feller  wot  tride 
him  done  fair  by  him,  kase  tha  kused  him  uv  'tackin  me 
with  pistols  an  knives,  but  thar  wuzn't  narry  pistol  nor 
knife  on  the  ground  at  the  time.  Enny  how  the  Judge 
says  he, 

" £  Mr.  Sessions,  the  jury  has  found  you  gilty  uv  salt 
an  .batter,  an  you  must  go  too  jail  fur  wun  munth  an  pay 
twenty-five  dollars  besides.' 

"  '  I  don't  keer  ef  you  make  it  two  munths,  by  —  !' 
says  Reub. 

"  c  Fine  him  ten  dollars,  Mr. Sheriff,  fur  swarin  in  Cort.' 

"  c 1  don't  keer  ef  you  make  it  twenty  dollars,  by  — !' 
says  Reub. 

"  {  Fine  him  twenty  dollars  and  three  munths  imprison 
ment,  Mr.  Sheriff,'  says  the  Judge. 

"  That  made  Reub.  stap  cussin  in  the  Cort-House,  I 
tell  you,  an  the  Sheriff  tuck  him  off  too  jail  and  locked 
him  up,  an  he  had  too  stay  thar  four  munths  by  himself. 

"I  had  a  fite  wunst  over  on  the  Cahawba  river,  with 
a  Tennesee  wagoner's  dog — did  you  ever  hear  me  tell 
'bout  it  ?  but  never  mind  now,  fellers,  I'm  gitten  mity 
dry,  an  I  have  too  wate  until  I  git  a  nuther  horn,  an  I 
don't  keer  who  pays  fur  it,  I  don't." 


THE  FASTEST  FUNERAL  ON  RECORD, 

BY   F.  A.  DURIVAGE,  ESQ.,  OF   BOSTON,  MASS. 

Under  the  well-known  signature  of  "The  Old  'Un,"  in  the 
"  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  Mr.  Durivage  has  acquired  the  highest 
reputation.  His  "  Ghost  of  the  Eleven  Strike,"  and  other 
original  comic  sketches,  have  been  read  with  delight  by 
thousands.  He  is  now  the  editor  of  the  Boston  "  Weekly 
Symbol" — a  very  "  Odd  Fellow's"  paper,  which  he  conducts 
with  signal  ability. 

"  Hurrah !  hurrah  !  the  dead  ride  fast — 

Dost  fear  to  ride  with  me1?" — Burger's  Leonora. 
"This  fellow  has  no  feeling  of  his  business." — Hamlet, 


Mr.  P. — I  HAD  just  crossed  the  long  bridge  leading 
from  Boston  to  Cambridgeport,  and  was  plodding  my 
dusty  way  on  foot  through  that  not  very  agreeable 
suburb,  on  a  sultry  afternoon  in  July,  with  a  very 
creditable  thunder-cloud  coming  up  in  my  rear,  when  a 
stout  elderly  gentleman,  with  a  mulberry  face,  a  brown 
coat,  and  pepper-and-salt  smalls,  reined  up  his  nag, 
and  after  learning  that  I  was  bound  for  Old  Cam 
bridge,  politely  invited  me  to  take  a  seat  beside  him  in 
the  little  sort  of  tax-cart  he  was  driving.  Nothing 
loath,  I  consented,  and  we  were  soon  en  route.  The 
mare  he  drove  was  a  very  peculiar  animal.  She  had 
few  good  points  to  the  eye,  being  heavy-bodied,  ham 
mer-headed,  thin  in  the  shoulders,  bald-faced,  and 

47 


48       THE  FASTEST  FUNERAL  ON  RECORD. 

rejoicing  in  a  little  stump  of  a  tail  which  was  almost 
entirely  innocent  of  hair.  But  there  were  "  lots  of 
muscle,"  as  Major  Longbow  says,  in  her  hind 
quarters. 

"  She  aint  no  Wenus.  Sir,"  said  my  new  acquaint 
ance,  pointing  with  his  whip  to  the  object  of  my  scrutiny 
— "  but  handsome  is  as  handsome  does.  Them's  my 
sentiments.  She's  a  rum  'un  to  look  at,  but  a  good  'un 
to  go." 

"Indeed?" 

"  Yes,  Sir!  That  there  mare,  sir,  has  made  good 
time — I  may  say,  very  good  time  before  the  hearse." 

"  Before  the  hearse  ?" 

"  Before  the  'hearse !  S'pose  you  never  heard  of 
burying  a  man  on  time  !  I'm  a  sexton,  sir,  and  under 
taker — JACK  CROSSBONES,  at  your  service — '  Daddy 
Crossbones'  they  call  me  at  PORTER'S." 

"  Ah !  I  understand.  Your  mare  ran  away  with  the 
hearse." 

"  Ran  away !  A  child  could  hold  her.  Oh !  yes,  of 
course  she  ran  away,"  added  the  old  gentleman,  look 
ing  full  in  my  face  with  a  very  quizzical  expression, 
and  putting  the  fore  finger  of  his  right  hand  on  the  right 
side  of  his  party-coloured  proboscis. 

"My  dear  Sir,"  said  I,  "you  have  excited  my 
curiosity  amazingly,  and  I  should  esteem  it  as  a  par 
ticular  favour  if  you  would  be  a  little  less  oracular  and 
a  little  more  explicit." 

"  I  don't  know  as  I'd  ought  to  tell  you,"  said  my 
new  acquaintance  very  slowly  and  tantalizingly.  "  If 
you  was  one  of  these  here  writing  chaps,  you  might 
poke  it  in  the  '  Spirit  of  the  Times,'  and  then  it  would 


THE    FASTEST    FUNERAL    ON    RECORD.  49 

be  all  day  with  me.  But  I  don't  care  if  I  do  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it.  Honour  bright,  you  know." 

"Of  course." 

"  Well,  then,  I  live  a  piece  up  beyond  Old  Cam 
bridge — you  can  see  our  steeple  off'  on  a  hill  to  the 
right,  when  we  get  a  little  further.  Well,  one  day,  I 
had  a  customer — (he  was  carried  off  by  the  typhus) — 
which  had  to  be  toted  into  town — cause  why?  he  had 
a  vault  there.  So  I  rubbed  down  the  old  mare  and 
put  her  in  the  fills.  Ah  !  Sir !  that  critter  knows  as 
much  as  an  Injun,  and  more  than  a  Nigger.  She's  as 
sober  '  as  be  d — d'  when  she  get's  the  shop — that's 
what  I  call  the  hearse — behind  her.  You  would  not 
think  she  was  a  three-minute  nag,  to  look  at  her. 
Well,  sir,  as  luck  would  have  it,  by  a  sort  of  providen 
tial  inspiration,  the  day  before,  I'd  took  off  the  old 
wooden  springs  and  set  the  body  on  elliptics.  For  I 
thought  it  a  hard  case  that  a  gentleman  who'd  been 
riding  easy  all  his.  life,  should  go  to  his  grave  on 
wooden  springs.  Ah !  I  deal  well  by  my  customers.  I 
thought  of  patent  boxes  to  the  wheels,  but  I  couldn't 
afford  it,  and  the  parish  are  desperate  stingy. 

"  Well,  I  got  him  in,  and  led  off  the  string — fourteen 
hacks,  and  a  dearbourn  wagon  at  the  tail  of  the  funeral, 
We  made  a  fine  show.  As  luck  would  have  it,  just  as 
we  came  abreast  of  Porter's,  out  slides  that  eternal  tor 
ment,  BILL  SIKES,  in  his  new  trotting  sulky,  with  the 
brown  Jiorse  that  he  bought  for  a  fast  crab,  and  is 
mighty  good  for  a  rush,  but  hain't  got  nigh  so  much 
bottom  as  the  mare.  Bill's  light  weight,  and  his  sulky's 
a  mere  feather.  Well,  sir,  Bill  came  up  alongside,  and 
walked  his  horse  a  bit.  He  looked  at  the  mare  and 


50  THE   FASTEST   FUNERAL    ON   RECORD. 

then  at  me,  and  then  he  winked.  Then  he  looked  at 
nis  nag  and  put  his  tongue  in  his  cheek,  and  winked. 
I  looked  straight  ahead,  and  only  said  to  myself,  '  Cuss 
you,  Bill  Sikes.'  By  and  by,  he  let  his  horse  slide. 
He  travelled  about  a  hundred  yards,  ana  then  held  up 
till  I  came  abreast,  and  then  he  winked  and  bantered 
me  again.  It  was  d — d  aggravatin'.  Says  I  to  myself, 
says* I — f  that's. twice  you've  done  it,  my  buzzum  friend 
and*  sweet-scented  shrub — but  you  doesn't  do  that  'ere 
again.'  The  third  time  he  bantered  me,  I  let  him  have 
it.  It  was  only  saying  c  Scat  you  brute,'  and  she  was 
off— that  mare.  He  had  all  the  odds,  you  know,  for 
I  was  toting  a  two  hundred  pounder,  and  he  ought  to 
have  beat  me  like  breaking  sticks,  now  hadn't  he  ?  He 
had  me  at  the  first  brush,  for  I  told  you  the  brown  horse 
was  a  mighty  fast  one  for  a  little  ways.  But  soon  I 
lapped  him.  I  had  no  whip,  and  he  could  use  his 
string — but  he  had  his  hands  full.  Side  by  side,  away 
we  went.  Rattle-te-bang !  crack !  abuz !  thump !  And 
I  afraid  of  losing  my  customer  on  the  road.  But  I  was 
•more  afraid  of  losing  the  race.  The  reputation  of  the 
old  mare  was  at  a  stake,  and  I  swore  she  should  have 
a  fair  chance.  We  went  so  fast  that  the  posts  and  rails 
by  the  road  side  looked  like  a  log  fence.  The  old 
church  and  the  new  one,  and  the  colleges,  spun  past 
like  Merry  Andrews.  The  hackmen  did  not  know 

what  the was  to  pay,  and,  afraid  of  not  being  in 

at  the  death,  they  put  the  string  onto  their  teams,  and 
came  clattering  on  behind  as  if  Satan  had  kicked  'em 
on  eend.  Some  of  the  mourners  was  sporting  charac 
ters,  and  they  craned  out  of  the  carriage  windows  and 
waved  their  handkerchiefs.  The  President  of  Harvard 


THE    FASTEST    FUNERAL    ON    RECORD.  51 

College  himself,  inspired  by  the  scene,  took  off  his 
square  tile  as  I  passed  his  house,  and  waving  it  three 
times  round  his  head,  cried,  l  Go  it,  Boots  !'  It  is  a 
fact,  And  I  beat  him,  sir !  I  beat  him,  in  three  miles, 
a  hundred  rods.  **He  gin  it  up,  sir,  in  despair." 

u  His  horse  was  off  his  feed  for  a  week,  and  when  he 
took  to  corn  again  he  wasn't  worth  a  straw.  It  was 
acknowledged  on  al]  hands  to  be  the  fastest  funeral  on 
record,  though  I  say  it  as  shouldn't.  I'm  an  under 
taker,  sir,  and  I  never  yet  was  overtaken." 

On  subsequent  inquiry  at  Porter's,  where  the  sporting 
sexton  left  me,  I  found  that  his  story  was  strictly  true 
in  all  the  main  particulars.  A  terrible  rumpus  was 
kicked  up  about  the  race,  but  Crossbones  swore  lustily 
that  the  mare  had  run  away — that  he  had  sawed  away 
two  inches  of  her  lip  in  trying  to  hold  her  up,  and  that 
he  could  not  have  done  otherwise,  unless  he  had  run 
her  into  a  fence  and  spilled  his  "  customer"  into  the 
ditch.  If  any  one  expects  to  die  anywhere  near  the 
sexton's  diggings,  I  can  assure  them  that  the  jolly  old 
boy  is  still  alive  and  kicking,  the  very  "Ace  of  Hearts" 
and  "Jack  of  Spades,"  and  that  now  both  patent  boxes 
and  elliptic  springs  render  his  professional  conveyance 
the  easiest  running  thing  on  the  road. 


GOING  TO  BED  BEFORE  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

BY   JUDGE    DOUGLASS,  OF    ILLINOIS. 

Next  to  judge  "  Horse  Allen,"  of  Missouri,  Judge  Douglass,  of 
Illinois,  is  decidedly  the  most  original  and  amusing  member 
of  the  western  bar — or  we  are  no  judge. 

As  I  was  saying,  ten  years  ago,  Judge  Douglass,  of 
Illinois,  was  a  beardless  youth  of  twenty  years  of  age, 
freshly  come  amongst  the  people  of  the  "  Sucker  State," 
with  an  air  about  him  suspiciously  redolent  of  Yankee- 
land.  A  mere  youthful  adventurer  amongst  those 
"  quare"  Suckers — one  would  deem  the  position  embar 
rassing.  Not  so  with  the  judge ;  he  had  come  on  busi 
ness.  A  political  fortune  was  to  be  made,  and  no  time 
lost.  He  was  about  launching  on  the  sea  of  popular  fa 
vour,  and  he  commenced  a  general  coast  survey  the  day 
he  arrived.  He  soon  made  himself  District  Attorney, 
member  of  the  Legislature,  Register  of  the  U.  S.  Land 
Office,  Secretary  of  State,  and  Judge  of  the  Supreme 
Court. 

"How  do  you  adapt  yourself,"  said  I,  "Judge,  to 
the  people  ?  How  did  you  c  naturalize'  yourself,  as  it 
were  ?" 

"  Oh,  nothing  easier ;  you  see  I  like  it.  It's  demo 
cratic.  But  it  did  come  awkward  at  first.  You  know 
I  am,  or  rather  was,  bashful  to  rather  a  painful  degree. 
Well,  now,  nine-tenths  of  my  constituents  despise  luxu- 
52 


GOING  TO  BED  BEFORE  A  YOUNG  LADY.      53 

ries,  and  have  no  such  thing  as  a  second  room  in  their 
houses.  In  beating  up  for  votes,  I  live  with  my  consti 
tuents,  eat  with  my  constituents,  drink  with  them,  lodge 
with  them,  pray  with  them,  laugh,  hunt,  dance  and  work 
with  them  ;  I  eat  their  corn  dodgers  and  fried  bacon, 
and  sleep  two  in  a  bed  with  them.  Among  my  first 
acquaintances  were  the  L  -  s,  down  under  the  Bluffs. 
Fine  fellows,  the  L  -  s,  —  by  the  way$  I  am  sure  of 
five  votes  there.  Well,  you  perceive,  I  had  to  live 
there  :  and  I  did  live  there.  But,  sir,  I  was  frightened 
the  first  night  I  slept  there.  I  own  it  ;  yes,  sir,  I 
acknowledge  the  corn.  An  ice  in  August  is  something  : 
but  I  was  done  to  an  icicle  ;  had  periodical  chills  for 
ten  days.  Did  you  ever  see  a  Venus  in  linsey-wool- 


"No!" 

,  "  Then  you  shall  see  Serena  L  -  s.  They  call  her 
the  c  White  Plover  :'  seventeen  :  —  plump  as  a  pigeon, 
and  smooth  as  a  persimmon.  How  the  devil,  said  I  to 
myself,  soliloquizing  the  first  night  I  slept  there,  am  I  to 
go  to  bed  before  this  young  lady  ?  I  do  believe  my  heart 
was  topsyturvied,  for  the  idea  of  pulling  off  my  boots 
before  the  girl  was  death.  And  as  to  doffing  my  other 
fixtures,  I  would  sooner  have  my  leg  taken  off  with  a 
wood-saw.  The  crisis  was  tremendous.  It  was  nearly 
midnight,  and  the  family  had  been  hours  in  bed.  Miss 
Serena  alone  remained.  Bright  as  the  sun,  the  merry 
minx  talked  on.  It  was  portentously  obvious  to  me  at 
last,  that  she  had  determined  to  outsit  me.  By  repeated 
spasmodic  efforts,  my  coat,  waistcoat,  cravat,  boots  and 
socks  were  brought  off.  During  the  process,  my  beauti 
ful  neighbour  talked  to  me  with  unaverted  eyes,  and 
r> 


54     GOING  TO  BED  BEFORE  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

with  that  peculiar  kind  of  placidity  employed  by  paint 
ers  to  imbody  their  idea  of  the  virgin.  I  dumped 
myself  down  in  a  chair,  in  a  cold  perspiration.  A  dis 
tressing  thought  occurred  to  me.  Does  not  the  damsel 
stand  on  a  point  of  local  etiquette  ?  It  may  be  the 
fashion  of  these  people  to  see  strangers  in  bed  before 
retiring  themselves  ?  May  I  not  have  kept  those  beau 
tiful  eyes  open,  from  ignorance  of  what  these  people 
deem  good  breeding?  Neither  the  lady's  eyes  nor 
tongue  had  indeed  betrayed  fatigue.  Those  large  jet 
eyes  seemed  to  dilate  and  grow  brighter  as  the  blaze  of 
the  wood  fire  died  away ;  but  doubtless  this  was  from 
kind  consideration  for  the  strange  wakefulness  of  her 
guest.  The  thing  was  clear.  I  determined  to  retire, 
and  without  delay.  I  arose  "with  firmness,  unloosed 
my  suspenders,  and  in  a  voice  not  altogether  steady, 
said :  v 

"  *  Miss  Serena,  I  think  I  will  retire.' 

"  £  Certainly,  sir,'  she  quietly  observed,  c  you  will 
lodge  there,  sir;'  inclining  her  beautiful  head  towards 
a  bed  standing  a  few  yards  from  where  she  was  sitting. 
I  proceeded  to  uncase  ;  entrenching  myself  behind  a  chaii 
the  while,  fondly  imagining  the  position  offered  some 
security.  It  is  simply  plain  to  a  man  in  his  senses, 
that  a  chair  of  the  fashion  of  the  one  I  had  thrown 
between  myself  and  c  the  enemy,'  as  a  military  man 
would  say,  offered  almost  no  security  at  all.  No  more, 
in  fact,  than  standing  up  behind  a  ladder — nothing  in 
the  way  of  the  artillery  of  bright  eyes,  as  a  poet  would 
say,  sweeping  one  down  by  platoons.  Then  I  had  a 
dead  open  space  of  ten  feet  between  me  and  the  bed  ; 
a  sort  of  Bridge  of  Lodi  passage  which  I  was  forced  to 


GOING   TO    BED   BEFORE   A   YOUNG   LADY.  55 

make,  exposed  to  a  cruel  raking  fire  fore  and  aft. 
Although  I  say  it,  who  should  not  say  it,  an  emergency 
never  arose  for  which  I  had  not  a  resource.  I  had 
one  for  this.  The  plan  was  the  work  of  a  moment, 
I  de " 

"  Ah !  I  see,  you  stormed  the  battery  and  s -" 

"  Bah !  don't  interrupt  me.  No  ;  I  determined,  by  a 
bold  ruse  de  guerre,  to  throw  her  attention  out  of  the 
window,  clear  the  perilous  passage,  and  fortify  myself 
under  the  counterpane  before  she  recovered  her  surprise. 
The  plan  failed.  You  see  I  am  a  small  man,  physically 
speaking.  Body,  limbs,  and  head,  setting  up  business 
on  one  hundred  and  seven  and  a  half  pounds,  all  told, 
of  flesh,*  blood,  and  bones,  cannot,  individually  or  col 
lectively,  set  up  any  very  ostentatious  pretensions.  I 
believe  the  young  lady  must  have  been  settling  in  her 
mind  some  philosophical  point  on  that  head.  Perhaps 
her  sense  of  justice  wished  to  assure  itself  of  a  perfectly 
fair  distribution  of  the  respective  motives.  Perhaps  she 
did  not  feel  easy  until  she  knew  that  a  kind  Providence 
had  not  added  to  general  poverty  individual  wrong. 
Certain  it  was,  she  seemed  rather  pleased  with  her 
speculations ;  for  when  I  arose  from  a  stooping  posture 
finally,  wholly  disencumbered  of  cloth,  I  noticed  mis 
chievous  shadows  playing  about  the  corners  of  her 
mouth.  It  was  the  moment  I  had  determined  to  direct 
her  eye  to  some  astonishing  circumstance  out  of  the 
window.  But  the  young  lady  spoke  at  the  critical 
moment. 

"'Mr.  Douglass,'  she  observed,  {you  have  go*  a 
mighty  small  chance  of  legs  there.' 

"  Men  seldom  have  any  notice  of  their  own  poweis , 


56      GOING  TO  BED  BEFORE  A  YOUNG  LADY. 

I  never  made  any  pretensions  to  skill  in  ground  and 
lofty  tumbling ;  but  it  is  strictly  true,  I  cleared,  at  one 
bound,  the  open  space,  planted  myself  on  the  centre 
of  the  bed,  and  was  buried  in  the  blankets  in  a 
twinkling." 

"  I  congratulate  you,  my  boy,"  said  I,  poising  a  cube 
of  the  crimson  core  of  the  melon  on  the  point  of  my 
knife  ;  "  a  lucky  escape  truly!  But  was  the  young  lady 
modest?" 

"  Modest,  sir ! — there  is  not  in  Illinois  a  more  modest, 
or  more  sensible  girl.  It's  habit— all  habit.  I  think 
nothing  of  it  now.  Why,  it's  only  last  week  I  was  at 
a  fine  wedding  party,  and  a  large  and  fine  assembly  of 
both  sexes  lodged  in  the  same  room,  with  only  three 
feet  or  so  of  neutral  territory  between  them." 

"  You  astonish  me,  Mr.  Douglass." 

"  Fact,  sir,  upon  my  honour.  You  see  these  people 
are  the  very  soul  of  hospitality,  and  never  allow  a  fine 
social  party  to  turn  out  at  twelve  o'clock  at  night  to  go 
long  distances  home.  All  that  is  more  cleverly  managed 
here.  An  Illinois  bed  has  a  power  of  elongation  or 
expansion  perfectly  enigmatical  to  strangers.  One  bed 
four  feet  wide,  will,  on  occasion,  flank  one  whole  side 
of  the  house,  and  is  called  a  field-bed,  and  large  parties 
will  range  themselves  on  opposite  sides  of  the  house  as 
economically  as  candles  in  a  box." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  this  is  drouthy  prose,  intro 
duce  yourself  to  that  little  fellow  in  the  corner,  and 
pass  him  over ;  and  now  tell  me  all  about  old 
Canandaigua." 


GOING    TO    BED    BEFORE   A    YOUNG   LADY.  57 

THIS  story  of  Judge  Douglass  has  suggested  to  FIELD, 
of  the  St.  Louis  "  Reveille,"  the  following  adventure 
of  a  Missouri  politician  : — 

The  "  gentleman  of  Illinois"  is  not  the  only  gentle 
man  whose  legs  have  led  him  into  embarrassment.  A 
political  friend  of  ours,  equally  happy  in  his  manners, 
if  not  in  his  party,  among  the  Missouri  constituency, 
found  himself,  while  canvassing  the  State,  last  summer, 
for  Congress,  in  even  a  more  peculiarly  perplexing 
predicament  than  the  Illinois  judge. 

There  is  a  spot  in  the  south-western  part  of  this  State, 
known  as  The  Fiery  Fork  of  Honey  Run  ! — a  delicious 
locality,  no  doubt,  as  the  run  of  "honey"  is  of  course 
accompanied  by  a  corresponding  flow  of  "  milk,"  and 
a  mixture  of  milk  and  honey,  or  at  any  rate,  honey  and 
"  peach,"  is  the  evidence  of  sublunary  contentment, 
every  place  where  they  have  preaching ! 

"  Honey  Run,"  further  Christianized  by  the  presence 
of  an  extremely  hospitable  family  whose  mansion,  com 
prising  one  apartment — neither  more  nor  less — is  re 
nowned  for  being  never  shut  against  the  traveller,  and 
so  our  friend  found  it  during  the  chill  morning  air,  at 
the  expense  of  a  rheumatism  in  his  shoulder,  its  nume 
rous  unaffected  cracks  and  spaces  clearly  showing,  that 
dropping  the  latch  was  a  useless  formality.  The  vene 
rable  host  and  hostess,  in  their  one  apartment,  usually 
enjoy  the  society  of  two  sons,  four  daughters,  sundry 
dogs  and  "  niggers,"  and  as  many  lodgers  as  may 
deem  it  prudent  to  risk  the  somewhat  equivocal  allot 
ment  of  sleeping  partners.  On  the  night  in  question, 
our  friend,  after  a  hearty  supper  of  ham  and  eggs,  and 
a  canvass  of  the  Fiel^j  Forkers,  the  old  lady  bavins 


58  GOING   TO    BED    BEFORE    A    YOUNG   LADY. 

pointed  out  his  bed,  felt  very  weary,  and  only  looked 
for  an  opportunity  to  "  turn  in,"  though  the  mosquitoes 
were  trumping  all  sorts  of  wrath,  and  no  net  appeared 
to  bar  them.  The  dogs  flung  themselves  along  the 
floor,  or  again  rose,  restlessly,  and  sought  the  door-step  ; 
the  "  niggers"  stuck  their  feet  in  the  yet  warm  ashes ; 
the  old  man  stripped,  unscrupulously,  and  sought  his 
share  of  the  one  collapsed-looking  pillow,  and  the  sons, 
cavalierly  followed  his  example,  leaving  the  old 
woman,  "  gals,"  and  "  stranger,"  to  settle  any  question 
of  delicacy  that  might  arise. 

The  candidate  yawned,  looked  at  his  bed,  went  to 
the  door,  looked  at  the  daughters;  finally,  in  downright 
recklessness,  seating  himself  upon  "  the  downy,"  and 
pulliiig  off  his  coat.  Well,  he  pulled  off  his  coat — and 
he  folded  his  coat — and  then  he  yawned — and  then  he 
whistled — and  then  he  called  the  old  lady's  attention  to 
the  fact,  that  it  would  never  do  to  sleep  in  his  muddy 
trousers — and  then  he  undid  his  vest — and  then  he 
whistled  again — and  then,  suddenly,  an  idea  of  her 
lodger's  possible  embarrassment  seemed  to  flash  upon 
the  old  woman,  and  she  cried — 

"  Gals,  jest  turn  your  backs  round  'till  the  stranger 
gits  into  bed." 

The  backs  were  turned,  and  the  stranger  did  get 
into  bed  in  "  less  than  no  time,"  when  the  hostess  again 
spoke. 

"  Reckon,  stranger,  as  you  aint  used  to  us,  you'd 
better  kiver  up  till  the  gals  undress,  hadn't  you  ?" 

By  this  time  our  friend's  sleepy  fit  was  over,  and 
though  he  did  "kiver  up,"  as  desired,  somehow  or 
other,  the  old  counterpane  was  equally  kind  in  hiding 


GOING    TO    BED    BEFORE    A    YOUNG    LADY.  59 

his  blushes,  arid  favouring  his  sly  glances.  The 
nymphs  were  soon  stowed  away,  for  there  were  neither 
bustles  to  unhitch  nor  corsets  to  unlace,  when  their 
mamma,  evidently  anxious  not  to  smother  her  guest, 
considerately  relieved  him. 

"  You  can  unkiver  now,  stranger;  I'm  married  folks, 
and  you  aint  afeared  o'  me,  I  reckon !" 

The  stranger  happened  to  be  "  married  folks,"  him 
self;  he  unkiveredj  and  turned  his  back  with  true 
ronnubial  indifference,  as  far  as  the  ancient  lady  was 
concerned,  but,  with  regard  to  the  "gals,"  he  declares 
tha*  his  half-raised  curiosity  inspired  the  most  torment 
ing  ireams  of  mermaids  that  ever  he  experienced. 


.  I 


A  MILLERITE  MIRACLE. 

BY    C.  A.  P.,  OF   KENTUCKY. 

In  the  following  sketch  is  displayed  in  bold  relief  the  mum 
meries  practised  by  Miller,  Himes,  and  others,  who  have 
followed  in  the  footsteps  of  Matthias  "  the  prophet,"  and 
numbugs  of  like  stamp.  It  is  from  the  pen  of  a  new  corre 
spondent  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times." 

IN  a  little  village  in  the  state  of  Hoosierana,  in  the 
year  1844,  there  was  "  all  sorts"  of  excitement  concern 
ing  the  doctrines  and  prophesies  of  that  arch-deceiver, 
Miller.  For  months  the  Midnight  Cry,  followed  by 
the  Morning  Howl,  and  the  Noonday  Yell,  had  circu 
lated  through  the  village  and  surrounding  counties,  to 
an  extent  not  even  equalled  by  Dr.  D.'s  celebrated 
speech.  Men  disposed  of  their  property  for  little  or 
nothing.  The  women  were  pale  and  ghastly  from 
watching  and  praying,  and  in  fact,  the  whole  population, 
or 'at  least  those  who  believed  in  the  coming  ascension, 
looked  as  if  they  were  about  half-over  a  second  attack 
of  the  chills  and  fever.  There  were,  however,  some 
"  choice  spirits,"  (not  choice  in  theirs,  however,)  who, 
notwithstanding  the  popularity  of  the  delusion,  would 
not  enlist  under  the  banners  of  the  ascensionists,  and 
among  these  was  a  wild,  harumscarum  blade  from 
"  Down  East,"  by  the  name  of  Cabe  Newham.  Now 
Cabe  was  as  hard  "  a  case"  as  you  would  meet  on  a 
fourth  of  July  in  Texas,  always  alive  for  fun  and  sport 


A    MILLERITE    MIRACLE.  61 

of  any  and  every  description,  and  a  strong  disbeliever 
in  Millerism. 

The  night  of  the  third  of  April  was  the  time  agreed 
upon  out  west  here,  for  the  grand  exhibition  of  "  ground 
and  lofty  tumbling,"  and  about  ten  o'clock  of  the  said 
night,  numbers  of  the  Millerites  assembled  on  the  out 
skirts  of  the  town,  on  a  little  eminence,  upon  which  the 
proprietor  had  allowed  a  few  trees  to  stand.  In  the 
crowd,  and  the  only  representative  of  his  race  present, 
was  a  free  negro  by  the  name  of  Sam,  about  as  ugly, 
black,  woolly,  and  rough  a  descendant  of  Ham  as  ever 
baked  his  shins  over  a  kitchen  fire. 

Sam's  head  was  small,  body  and  arms  very  long,  and 
his  legs  bore  a  remarkable  resemblance  to  a  pair  of 
hames ;  in  fact,  put  Sam  on  a  horse,  his  legs  clasped 
round  its  neck,  his  head  towards  the  tail,  and  his  arms 
clasped  round  the  animal's  hams,  and  at  ten  paces  off 
you  would  swear  he  was  an  old  set  of  patent  gearing. 

The  leader  of  the  Millerites,  owing  to  an  "  ancient 
grudge  he  bore  him,"  hated  Sam  "  like  smoke,"  and 
had  done  all  in  his  power  to  prevent  his  admittance 
among  the  "  elect,"  but  all  to  no  purpose  ;  Sam  would 
creep  in  at  every  meeting,  and  to-night  here  he  was 
again,  dressed  in  a  white  robe  of  cheap  cotton,  secured 
to  his  body  by  a  belt,  and  shouting  and  praying  as  loud 
as  the  best. 

Now  on  the  morning  of  the  third,  Cabe  had,  with  a 
deal  of  perseverance,  and  more  trouble,  managed  to 
throw  a  half-inch  hemp  cord  over  the  branch  of  an  oak, 
which  stretched  its  long  arm  directly  over  the  spot  where 
the  Millerites  would  assemble  ;  one  end  he  had  secured 
to  the  body  of  the  tree,  and  the  other  to  a  stump  some 


62  A    MILLERITE    MIRACLE. 

distance  off.  About  ten  o'clock,  when  the  excitement 
was  getting  about  "  eighty  pounds  to  the  inch,"  Cabe, 
wrapped  in  an  old  sheet,  walked  into  the  crowd,  and 
proceeded  to  fasten,  in  as  secure  a  manner  as  possible, 
the  end  of  the  rope  to  the  back  part  of  the  belt  which 
confined  Sam's  robe,  and  having  succeeded,  "  sloped" 
to  join  some  of  his  companions  who  had  the  other  end. 
The  few  stars  in  the  sky  threw  a  dim  light  over  the 
scene,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  voice  of  Sam  was 
heard,  exclaiming  "  Gor  Almighty !  I'se  a  goin'  up ! 
Who-o-oh !"  and  sure  enough,  Sam  was  seen  mounting 
into  the  "  ethereal  blue ;"  this  was,  however,  checked 
when  he  had  cleared  "  terra  firma"  a  few  feet. 
"  Glory!"  cried  one,  "Hallelujah!"  another,  and 
shrieks  and  yells  made  night  hideous;  some  fainted, 
others  prayed,  and  not  a  few  dropped  their  robes  and 
"  slid."  Now,  whether  it  was  owing  to  the  lightness 
of  his  head,  or  the  length  and  weight  of  his  heels,  or 
both,  Sam's  position  was  not  a  pleasant  one ;  the  belt 
to  which  Cabe's  cord  was  attached  was  bound  exactly 
round  his  centre  of  gravity,  and  Sam  swung  like  a  pair 
of  scales,  head  up  and  heels  down,  heels  up  and  head 
down,  at  the  same  time  sweeping  over  the  crowd  like  a 
pendulum,  which  motion  was  accelerated  by  his  stren 
uous  clapping  of  hands  and  vigorous  kicking.  At 
length  he  became  alarmed,  he  wouldn't  go  up,  and  he 
couldn't  come  down!  "Lor  a  massy,"  cried  he,  "jist 
take  up  poor  nigger  to  urn  bosom,  or  lef  him  down 
again,  easy,  easy.  Lef  him  down  again,  please  um 
Lor,  and  dis  nigger  will  go  straight  to  um  bed! 
Ugh-h-h,"  and  Sam's  teeth  chattered  with  affright,  and 
he  kicked  again  more  vigorously  than  before,  bringing 


A    MILLERITE    MIRACLE.  63 

his  head  directly  downward  and  his  heels  up,  when  a 
woman  shrieking  out,  "  Oh !  Brother  Sam,  take  me 
with  you,"  sprung  at  his  head  as  he  swept  by  her, 
and  caught  him  by  the  wool,  bringing  him  up  "  all 
standing."  "Gosh!  Sister,"  cried  Sam,  "  lef  go  um 
poor  nigger's  har."  Cabe  gave  another  pull  at  the 
rope,  but  the  additional  weight  was  too  much,  the  belt 
gave  way  and  down  came  Sam,  his  bullet  head  taking 
the  leader  of  the  saints  a  "feeler"  just  between  the 
eyes.  "  Gosh,  is  I  down  agin  ?"  cried  the  bewildered 
Sam,  gathering  himself  up.  "  I  is,  bress  de  Lor !  but 
I  was  nearly  dar,  I  seed  de  gate  !"  The  leader  wiped 
his  overflowing  proboscis,  took  Sam  by  the  nape  of  the 
neck,  led  him  to  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  and  giving  him 
a  kick,  said,  "  Leave,  you  cussed  baboon !  you  are  so 
ugly  /  knoufd  they  wouldn't  let  you  i?i." 


OLD  SINGLETIRE, 

THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  NOT  ANNEXED. 
BY  THE  LATE  ROBERT  PATTERSON,  ESQ.,  OF  LOUISIANA. 

The  writer  of  the  following  incident  was  a  long1  time  associated 
with  the  author  of  "  Tom  Owen,  the  Bee  Hunter" — T.  B. 
Thorpe,  Esq. — in  editing  the  "  Concordia  Intelligencer."  He 
was  a  remarkably  clever  man,  and  his  early  death  last  season 
has  deprived  his  contemporaries  of  a  most  entertaining  and 
worthy  member  of  the  "  press  gang." 

A  GOOD  story  is  told  of  this  bold  frontiersman,  who 
had  made  himself  notorious,  and  given  his  character  the 
lend  sinister )  by  frequent  depredations  on  both  sides  the 
boundary  line  between  Texas  and  the  United  States. 
The  old  fellow  had  migrated  thither  from  parts  unknown, 
years  since,  knew  every  foot  of  country  for  fifty  miles 
on  either  side  in  his  vicinity,  and  had  communication 
by  runners  with  many  "  birds  of  the  same  feather ,"  then 
common  in  the  region. 

The  old  fellow  saw,  with  sorrow  and  regret,  the  rapid 
influx  of  population  within  the  last  ten  years,  and  was 
compelled  gradually  to  narrow  his  sphere  of  usefulness, 
for,  said  he,  "  People's  a  gittin  too  thicl^about  me — tha 
and  their  varmints  and  critters  is  fillin  up  the  woods  and 
spilin  the  huntin — and  then  tha  aint  no  chance  for  a  fel- 
lar  to  speculate  upon  travellers  as  tha  used  to  be  when 
tha  wan't  any  body  to  watch  a  fellar  : — why,  tha  is  get- 
64 


OLD    SINGLETIRE. 


65 


en  to  be  so  civylizated  that  a  fellar  can't  drink  a  barrel 
>f  double-rectified  'thout  havin'  em  all  abusin'  him 
ibout  it — and  then  ef  he  doas  happen  jist  by  accident  to 
drap  half  an  ounce  of  lead  into  a  feller,  why  tha  is  all 
up  in  arms  about  it.  Now  t'other  day  when  I  wanted  to 
mark  Joe  Sliteses'  ears  like  tha  marks  their  hogs,  'case 
he  called  me  a  vill-yaw,  they  wanted  to  jewdicate  me 
afore  the  court.  But  cuse  'em  for  a  set  of  blasted  fools 
they  aint  a  gwoin  to  fool  <  Old  Singletire'  ef  he  *is 
a  gitten  old  and  ain't  as  quick  on  the  trigger  as  he  used 
to  was. 

"  Blast  their  skins,  I  don't  care  ef  tha  does  annexate 
Texas  !  I'll  show  'em  somethin — tho'  tha  thinks  tha  is 
got  me  slick  when  tha  git  the  two  countries  wedged  up 
into  one — but  I'll  fix  em,  I'll  quit  and  go  to  ARKANSAW 
— whar  a  decent  white  man  kin  live  'thout  bein'  pestered, 
and  bused  and  jewdicated  /" 

"  Old  Single"  as  he  was  called,  for  short,  had  seve 
ral  years  previous  to  the  late  discussion  of  the  annexa 
tion  question,  with  singular  'cuteness  ascertained  the  pre 
cise  line  dividing  the  two  territories,  and  built  his  cabin 
thereon  in  such  a  position  that  when  lying  down — fo 
slept ,  one  half  in  the  United  States,  and  the  other  half  in 
Texas,  for  he  lay  at  right  angles  with  the  line. 

The  authorities  of  both  sides  had  frequently  found  him 
in  that  position,  but  as  their  separate  claims  lay  severally 
on  the  entire  individual,  they  were  not  content  to  arrest 
one  half  of  him  at  a  time.  A  great  deal  of  courtesy  was 
at  times  exhibited  by  the  officers,  each  pressing  the  other 
to  break  the  forms  of  international  law  by  pulling  Old 
Single  bodily  over  either  side  the  line.  Each  was  up  to 
trap,  and  feared  the  other  wished  to  trick  him,  and  de- 


66  OLD    SINGLETIRE. 

clined  the  effort  which  might  cause  a  rupture  between 
Texas  and  the  Union. 

On  one  occasion  they  were  exceedingly  pressing  on 
the  subject,  at  first  politely  so,  then  teasing  each  other, 
and  then  daring  by  taunt,  and  jeer,  and  jibe,  until  they 
worked  themselves  into  such  furious  excitement  that 
"  Old  Single,"  their  pretended  victim,  had  to  com 
mand  and  preserve  the  peace — "  Gentle-wim,"  said 
he,  "  you  may  fun,  and  fret,  and  quarrel  jist  as  much  as 
you  please  in  my  house — but  when  tha  is  any  lickin  to 
be  done  'bout  these  diggins,  why  c  Old  Single'  is 
thar  sure  ! — so  look  out  boys,  ef  you  strikes  you  dies  : 
— show  your  sense,  make  friends,  and  let's  liker. 
You,"  nodding  to  one,  "  hand  me  a  gourd  of  water ; 
and.  You,"  to  another,  "  pass  that  bottle  and  I'll  drink 
to  your  better  'quaintance." 

The  day  passed,  "  Old  Single"  crosses  the  line, 
and  one  of  the  beauties  on  each  side  his  cot,  all  going 
it  like  forty  at  twenty-deck  poker — a  sociable  game  as 
Sol.  Smith  says — and  as  remarked  our  informant,  "the 
old  man  was  a  perfect  Cumanche  horse  at  any  game  whar 
tha  was  curds." 

For  the  last  three  months  "  Old  Single"  had  been 
mightily  distressed — "  mighty  oneasy  bout  annexation" 
— for  he  knew  he  would  be  compelled  to  travel — well 
the  news  of  the  action  of  Texas  on  this  great  question 
was  received  in  "  Old  Single's"  vicinity  on  29th  of 
June — the  day  it  reached  Fort  Jessup. 

Next  morning  "  the  boys"  from  Boston  and  De  Kalb, 
a  couple  of  border  villages — after  a  glory  gathering 
about  annexation,  determined  to  storm  "  Old  Single" 
and  "rout"  him.  They  accordingly,  en  masse  a-la- 


OLD    SINGLETIRE.  67 

regulator,  started  off  for  his  cabin,  and  on  arriving  near 
it,  a  consultation  was  held,  and  it  was  determined  that 
bloodshed  was  useless — as  it  was  certain  to  occur  if 
violence  was  resorted  to — and  that  a  flag  of  truce  should 
be  sent  into  the  fortress,  offering  terms. 

The  old  man  was  found  in  a  gloomy  mood,  with 
a  pack  strapped  to  his  back,  in  woodsman  style.  "Old 
Centresplit,  his  friend  of  thirty  years'  standing,  his  rifle, 
his  favourite — his  all — was  laid  across  his  knees,  and 
he  in  deep  thought,  his  eyes  resting  on  vacancy.  As 
the  delegation  entered,  he  looked  up,  "  Well,  boys, 
the  time  is  cwra,  and  Texas  and  you  is  annixated, 
but  I  aint,  and  I  aint  a  gwoin  to  be  nuther  ! — so  take 
care  how  you  raise  my  dander;  I  can  shoot  sum 
yet  /"  % 

The  party  explained,  and  it  was  agreed  the  old  fel 
low  should  take  up  the  march  upon  the  line  for  the 
nearest  point  on  Red  River,  the  party  escorting  him 
at  twenty  paces  distant  on  either  side — that  the  last 
mile  should  be  run — that  if  he  struck  the  water's  edge 
first,  he  should  go  free — if  otherwise,  he  was  to  be 
taken  and  rendered  up  a  victim  to  the  offended  dig 
nity  of  the  laws.  "  Jlgreed,"  said  Old  Single,  "  it's  a 
bargain.  Boys,  tha  is  a  gallon  in  that  barrel,  let's 
finish  it  in  a  friendly  way,  and  then  travel."  The 
thing  was  done,  the  travel  accomplished,  and  the  race, 
fast  and  furious,  was  being  done.  The  old  fellow  led 
the  crowd,  hallooing  at  his  topmost  voice  as  he  gained 
the  river — "  HOOPEE  ! — HURRAH  ! — I  aint  annixated  ! — 
Pm  off— I  aint  no  whar — nuther  in  the  States  nor  Texas, 
BUT  IN  ARKANSAW  !  ! !"  swam  to  the  opposite  shore,  fired 
a  volley,  gave  three  cheers,  and  retired  victorious. 


"KUNNING  A  SAW"  ON  A  FRENCH 
GENTLEMAN. 

BY  "  GINSANGANDSON,"  OF    PHILADELPHIA. 

One  of  the  most  amusing  correspondents  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the 
Times"  is  "  the  gentleman  with  the  hard  name,"  whose 
nomme  de  plume  is  quoted  above.  In  more  respects  than  we 
care  to  state,  he  is,  emphatically,  "  a  host  in  himself,"  as  every 
Philadelphian,  and  the  travelling  community  generally,  will 
bear  willing  testimony. 

A  FRENCHMAN  who  had  been  residing  some  years  in 
London,  and  appeared  to  be  very  vain  of  his  knowledge 
of  mankind,  was  detailing  to  some  of  his  compatriots  in 
this  country  a  little  adventure  which  happened  to  him 
in  The  Great  Metropolis.  I  give  you  the  story  in  his 
own  words  as  much  as  possible,  his  manner  you  must 
conceive, 

"  When  I  was  in  Londres,  I  go  vun  day  into  wat  ze 
Anglais  call  ze  cafe,  an  I  give  ze  order  to  ros  me  von 
docke ;  ze  Anglais  ros  ze  docke  ver  well ;  ven  de 
docke  was  place  before  me  I  find  him  von  ver  fine 
docke,  and  ver  well  ros ;  he  was  ver  brown,  ver  full  of 
ze  stuff  aux  ognons,  an  ze  flaveur  was  ver  fine.  I  put 
ze  fork  into  ze  docke  and  I  commence  to  cut  ze  docke, 
mais  when  I  have  begin  to  cut  ze  docke  I  hear  some 

person  make  loud  strong  noise  comme  c,a — Oh !  as 

if  ze  heart  was  break.  I  put  down  ze  knife  on  ze  plate, 
68 


69 

an  I  look  roun  to  see  who  make  ze  noise  comme  £a — 

Oh !     Ven  I  look  roun  I  see  right  opposite  to  me 

von  gentlman,  who  was  ver  well  dress ;  he  ave  ver 
good  cote,  ver  good  pantalon,  and  ver  good  boot,  but 
he  have  dam  leetle  hat  wiz  a  hole  in  ze  top  ;  /  no  like 
datj  mais  he  was  a  gentlman ;  ze  noise  could  not  be 
made  by  him,  an  I  proceed  to  cut  ze  docke,  mais,  ver 
I  ave  proceed  to  cut  ze  docke  ze  second  time,  I  heai 

une  autre  fois  ze  same  noise,  comme  $a — Oh !  plus 

forte,  grate  deal  loudaire  zan  ze  first  time.  I  look  roun, 
mais  I  see  nobody  but  ze  gentlman ;  I  look  at  ze 
gentlman,  an  ze  gentlman  look  at  me.  He  vas  gentl 
man,  for  he  ave  ver  good  cote,  ver  good  pantalon, 
and  ver  good  boot,  mais  he  ave  dam  leetle  hat  on  ze 
head  wiz  a  hole  in  ze  top,  an  ze  hair  come  out ;  /  no 
like  dat,  mais  he  vas  gentlman.  Eh  bien!  I  ave  say 
to  ze  gentlman — '  Monsieur,  pour  quoi  you  make 

comme   ga — Oh !  ?'   and   ze   gentlman   ave   make 

me  answer  an  say,  '  Sare,  I  ave  eat  nosing  for  tree  day, 
an  I  am  ver  hungry.'  Mon  dieu,  I  say  to  myself,  ze 
gentlman  ave  reason,  he  ave  eat  nosing  for  tree  day. 
Sacre-bleu  he  must  ave  ver  grate  hungaire,  an  ven  I 
ave  say  dis  to  myself  I  look  at  ze  docke,  he  was  ver 
fine  docke,  an  ver  well  ros.  Zen  I  say  to  myself  ze 
seconde  time,  I  shall  give  ze  half  of  ze  docke  to  ze 
gentlman,  an  zen  I  give  ze  invitation  to  ze  gentlman, 
to  partage  ze  docke  wiz  me.  Ven  ze  gentlman  ave 
receive  ze  invitation  he  rite  way  place  himself  vis  a  vis 
to  me,  an  ma  fois !  ausi  quick  as  ze  lightnin  he  ave  eat 
ze  hole  of  my  docke,  Bigod,  quel  faim !  Ze  gentlman 
ave  speak  ze  truf,  he  was  ver  hungry !  En  verite,  I 
should  like  to  eat  piece  of  my  docke,  mais  ven  I  ziuk 
E 


70          "RUNNING  A  SAW"  ON  A  FRENCHMAN 

ze  gentlman  ave  eat  nosing  for  tree  day,  an  as  for  me 
I  ave  dej uner  tres  forte,  I  ring  ze  bell  an  I  give  ze  order 
for  a  noser  docke ;  in  ze  mean  time,  however,  ze 
gentlman  ave  drink  ze  hole  of  my  wine.  Eh  bien,  I 
I  deman  ze  oder  bouteille,  an  zen  ze  oder  docke  come ; 
ver  fine  docke,  mais  not  so  good  as  ze  last, — n'importe, 
ze  docke  was  ver  good,  mais  dis  time  I  ave  cut  ze 
docke  for  me,  an  ze  gentlman  ave  got  ze  oser  piece, 
he  was  so  hungry,  quel  dammage,  so  mooch  a  gentl 
man,  so  well  he  dress.  He  ave  ver  good  cote,  ver 
good  pantalon,  an  ver  good  boot,  mais  ze  dam  leetle 
hat  wiz  ze  hole  in  ze  top ;  J  no  like  dat,  but  he  WAS 
gentlman.  Eh  bien,  apres  ga  ze  gentlman  was  satisfy 
he  ave  eat  nearly  ze  two  docke,  an  I  was  satisfy,  an 
ven  I  ave  settle  ze  conte  ze  lanlor  was  satisfy  aussi ;  an 
zen  I  ave  say  to  ze  gentlman,  *  Monsieur,  I  sail  ave 
ze  plaisir  to  see  you  some  oser  time,  demain  chez  vous, 
at  your  house,'  and  ze  gentlman  he  make  grate  noise, 

un  autre  fois  for  ze  zurd  time,  comme  ga — Oh !  an 

he  say  to  me,  *  Sare,  I  ave  no  house.'  Eh  bien!  I 
reply  to  him,  vare  do  you  slip  ?  an  he  say  to  me, 
•'  Sare,  I  slip  in  ze  street.'  Bigod,  I  say  to  myself, 
wat  grate  pitie  such  hansome  gentlman  slip  in  ze 
street ;  an  zen  I  look  at  him  again,  an  I  know  he  is 
gentlman,  he  ave  such  ver  good  cote,  such  ver  good 
pantalon,  an  such  ver  good  boot,  but  zen  I  see  ze  dam 
leetle  hat  wiz  ze  hole  in  ze  top,  I  no  like  dat!  but  he 
was  gentlman.  Nevare  min,  I  shall  take  ze  gentlman 
chez  moi  to  my  house !  bigod  he  shall  not  slip  in  ze 
street !  So  I  give  him  ze  invitation  to  go  to  my  house, 
which  he  ave  accept  with  great  plaisir.  Ven  I  ave  take 
him  chez  moi  I  make  in  ze  corner  what  ze  Anglais  call 


ON    V   FRENCHMAN.  71 

ze  shake-down, — shake-up  !  an  ze  gentlmai  commence 
already  to  take  off  ze  close.  Pour  la  premiere  he  ave 
put  ze  dam  leetle  hat  wiz  ze  hoi*1  In  ze  top  on  ze  chair, 
/  no  like  /  3  so  when  he  a^  e  turn  his  back,  I  give  it 
von  leetle  kick  under  ze  bed  and  nevare  say  nosing ; 
ze  gentlman  zen  lake  off  ze  cote,  ver  good  cote — ver 
good  cote  indeed !  an  he  take  off  ze  pantalon,  ver  fine 
pantalo;  >rer  good  pantalon — oui,  ver  good !  an  zen  he: 
take  off  ze  boot,  ah  ma  fois,  zey  were  good  boot,  ver 
fine  boot  indeed,  an  ze  gentlman  he  go  to  slip.  Eh 
bien,  c'est  fine,  I  ave  nosing  else  to  do,  I  go  to  slip 
aussi,  an  I  nevaire  hear  nosing  at  all  tout  la  nuit,  I  mus 
have  slip  ver  well.  In  ze  morning,  ver  early,  a  la 
bonne  heur,  I  rub  my  eyes  an  fine  myself  wake  up ;  I 
put  ze  head  out  of  ze  bed  an  I  look  for  my  compagnon, 
mais  ze  gentlman  I  no  see  him,  no  doute  he  slip  ver 
mooch  hard,  he  have  grand  fatigue  he  slip  all  ze  time 
in  ze  street,  I  ave  grate  compassion  for  him ;  so  I  turn 
on  ze  oser  side  an  I  make  ze  second  time  wat  ze 
Anglais  call  ze  leetle  nappe,  not  ze  <  nappe  Francaise,' 
mais  ze  *  nappe  Anglaise ;'  chose  tres  difference  je 
vous  assure.  Eh  bien,  ven  I  ave  rub  ze  eye  ze  second 
time,  I  fin  it  was  ten  o'clock  of  ze  watch,  an  I  say  to 
ze  gentleman  who  have  slip  in  ze  corner  all  ze  nite, 
1  Monsieur,  levez  vous !  it  is  time  to  get  up,'  an  ze 
gentlman  ave  make  no  response,  an  zin  I  get  up  myself  an 
I  look  in  ze  corner,  mais  I  fin  nosing,  ze  gentlman  was 
gone.  Ah  ha !  I  say  to  myself,  ze  gentlman  was  tres 
reconnaisant,  he  ave  ver  mooch  gratitude,  he  mus  ave 
wake  up  an  he  fin  me  slip  ver  good,  he  no  like  to  make 
ze  noise  to  disturb  me ;  I  ave  no  dout  he  will  come 
back  ven  he  zink  I  ave  wake  up,  an  he  will  make  me 


72         "RUNNING  A  SAW"  ON  A  FRENCHMAN. 

grate  zank  for  my  kindness  to  him  zat  he  did  not  slip  in 
ze  street.  Oh  he  is  such  genthnan,  he  ave  such  ver  good 
cote,  such  fine  pantalon,  and  such  ver  good  boot.  Ven 
I  say  zis  to  myself  I  zinkmake  my  toillette,  an  I  put  on  my 
boot,  ver  good  boot, — mais,  wat  it  is — zey  are  not  my 
boot !  ver  good  boot  indeed — ver  good  boot  !  mais  zey 
are  not  my  boot.  Ah  nevaire  min,  it  is  mistake,  ze 
gentlman  ave  made  mistake,  he  get  up  so  early  in  ze 
morning  an  ave  make  ze  mistake  in  ze  dark.  Eh  bien, 
he  will  soon  return  and  make  ze  grand  apologie,  for  he 
is  so  mooch  gentlman — oh  oui,  he  is  gentlman,  he  ave 
ver  good  cote,  ver  good  pantalon,  an  ze  boot  are  ver 
good  aussi — not  so  good  as  mine,  mais  ze  are  ver  good. 
In  ze  mean  time  I  zink  comme  §a  to  myself,  an  I  look 
roun  for  my  pantalon;  oh  zey  are  zere.  I  put  on  ze 
pantalon,  mais — que  diable !  I  feel  in  ze  poches,  oui, 
bigar  zey  are  not  my  pantalon — ver  fine  !  oui,  ver  fine 
pantalon,  mais  zey  are  not  my  pantalon.  Ah  tis  ver  plain, 
ze  gentlman  ave  make  anoser  mistake,  an  ave  take  my 
pantalon,  an  zink  zey  are  his  pantalon  ;  nevaire  min ! 
nevaire  min !  he  will  fine  out  ze  mistake  bomby  when 
he  fine  ze  monnaie  in  ze  poche,  he  will  be  ver  sorry,  for 
he  is  gentlman,  he  ave  such  ver  good  cote,  ver  good  pan 
talon,  an  ver  good  boot;  oh  oui,  he  is  gentlman,  j 'en 
suis  sure.  Vile  I  zink  so  to  myself  I  look  at  ze  watch, 
an  I  fine  him  leven  o'clock  of  ze  mornin ;  I  tink  it  is 
time  to  break  ze  faste,  I  am  ver  hungry,  so  I  put  on 
my — ze  debil !  what  I  have  here  ? — ver  fine  coat,  mais, 
ouis,  it  is  not  my  cote — no  it  is  not  my  cote  !  Bigod  ze 
gentlman  ave  make  un  autre  fois,  a  noser  gran  mistake, 
he  ave  take  my  cote  an  lef  me  his  cote,  it  was  ver  good 
cote — ver  good  cote  indeed !  mais  it  was  not  my  cote. 


"  RUNNING    A    SAW"    ON    A   FRENCHMAN.  73 

J'en  suis  fache  ven  ze  gentlman  ave  fine  it  out  he  will 
be  mooch  mortify  zat  he  ave  take  my  cote.  Ah  mon 
Dieu !  I  ave  grate  pitie  for  him,  he  was  such  gentlman, 
I  am  sure  he  was  gentlman,  he  ave  such  ver  good  cote, 
such  fine  pantalon,  and  such  ver  good  boot !  Oh  cer- 
tainement  he  was  gentlmen,  I  nevaire  make  ze  mistake, 
I  know  ze  gentlman  an  he  was  gentlman,  I  know  he  will 
come  back ;  an  zen  I  wait  for  him  von  hour  by  ze  clock, 
an  I  zink  to  myself,  bigar  I  ave  ze  gran  rumble  in  ze 
stomac,  an  I  feel  ver  hungere  as  if  I  ave  eat  nosing  for 
tree  day  like  ze  gentlman,  who  I  ave  no  doubt  ave  wait 
all  zis  time  at  ze  cafe  for  me.  Ah  quel  shepide  !  I  ne 
vaire  zink  of  zat  before,  an  I  look  for  my  hat.  It  is  not 

on  ze  table, — no!  it  is  not  on  ze restez!  q'avons 

nous  ici  ?  Who  put  my  hat  under  ze  bed  ?  my  new  hat ! 
I  ave  jus  buy  him,  an  ave  jus  pay  von  guinea  for  him  : 
Venez !  I  go  on  ze  knee.  Ah  ha  !  I  ave  got  him  by  ze 
ear.  Venez  ici  done,  rodeur  ! — Bigod  I  wat  ze  debil  1 
got  here  !  Hein  ?  Sacre-bleu  !  mille  tonnerres  !  ze  dam 
leetle  hat  wiz  ze  hole  in  ze  top,  bigar  !  I  no  like  dat,  ze 
gentlman  ave  make  von  dam  gran  mistake  clis  time,  an 
I  no  like  dat.  Mais  he  was  gentlman,  he  ave  such  ver 
good  cote,  such  ver  fine  pantalon,  and  such  good-  boot, 
mais  I  no  like  ze  dam  leetle  hat  wiz  ze  hole  in  ze  top. — 
No!  Bigod ! !  Mais  he  was  gentlman." 


BREAKING  A  BANK. 


BY  SOL.  SMITH,  AUTHOR  OF  "  THEATRICAL  APPRENTICE 
SHIP  AND  ANECDOTAL  RECOLLECTIONS.' 


We  cannot  allow  a  second  collection  of  stories  from  the  "  Spirit 
of  the  Times"  to  go  before  the  public  without  containing  one 
of  Sol.  Smith's  sketches,  he  having  been  one  of  our  earliest 
correspondents.  Besides  which,  it  is  not  contained  in  the 
Appendix  to  his  own  admirable  collection  of  stories,  recently 
published  in  Philadelphia. 

CAPTAIN  Summons  is  a  very  clever  fellow — and  the 
"  Dr.  Franklin"  was  a  very  superb  boat,  albeit  inclined 
to  rock  about  a  good  deal,  and  nearly  turn  over  on  her 
side  when  visited  by  a  breath  of  air  in  the  least  resem 
bling  a  gale.  Capt.  Summons  is  a  clever  fellow.  All 
steamboat  captains  are  clever  fellows — or  nearly  all; 
out  what  I  mean  to  say  is,  Captain  Summons  is  a  parti 
cularly  clever  fellow! — a  clever  fellow  in  the  widest 
sense  of  the  term — a  fellow  that  is  clever  in  every  way — 
anxious  that  his*  passengers  shall  be  comfortably  be 
stowed,  well  fed  and  well  attended  to — and  determined 
that  they  shall  amuse  themselves  "just  as  they  d — n 
please,"  as  the  saying  is.  If  he  happens  to  have 
preachers  on  board,  he  puts  on  a  serious  countenance 
of  a  Sunday  morning — consents  that  there  shall  be 
preaching — orders  the  chairs  to  be  set  out,  and  provides 
Bibles  and  hymn-books  for  the  occasion — himself  and 
74 


BREAKING   A    BANK.  75 

officers,  whose  watch  is  below,  taking  front  seats  and 
listening  attentively  to  the  discourse.  Likely  as  not,  at 
the  close  of  the  service,  he  will  ask  the  reverend  gen 
tleman  who  has  been  officiating,  with  his  back  in  close 
proximity  to  a  hot  fire  in  a  Franklin  furnace,  to  accom 
pany  him  to  the  bar  and  join  him  in  some  refreshments ! 
If  there  are  passengers  on  board  who  prefer  to  pass  the 
time  away  in  playing  poker,  ucre,  brag,  or  whist,  tables 
and  chairs  are  ready  for  them,  too — poker,  brag,  ucre 
and  whist  be  it !  All  sorts  of  passengers  are  accommo 
dated  on  the  Dr.  Franklin — the  rights  of  none  are  suf 
fered  to  be  infringed ; — all  are  free  to  follow  such 
employments  as  shall  please  themselves.  A  dance  in 
the  evening  is  a  very  common  occurrence  on  this  boat, 
and  when  cotillions  are  on  the  carpet,  the  captain  is  sure 
to  be  thar. 

It  sometimes  happens  that,  at  the  commencement  of 
a  voyage,  it  is  found  somewhat  difficult  to  reconcile  all 
the  passengers  to  the  system  of  Capt.  Summons,  which 
is  founded  on  the  broad  principle  of  equal  rights  to  all. 
On  the  occasion  of  my  voyage  in  the  "  Doctor,"  in  De 
cember,  1844,  I  found  myself  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  passengers  who  were  entire  strangers  to  me — a  very 
rare  occurrence  to  one  who  travels  so  often  on  the  west 
ern  rivers  as  I  do.  I  wished  my  absence  from  New 
Orleans  to  be  as  brief  as  possible,  and  the  "  Doctor" 
was  the  fastest  boat  in  port  at  the  time  of  my  leaving  the 
Crescent  City ;  so  I  resolved  to  secure  a  berth  in  her, 
and  trust  in  luck  to  find  a  St.  Louis  boat  at  the  Mouth. 

I  don't  know  how  it  is,  or  why  it  is,  but  by  strangers 
I  am  almost  always  taken  for  a  PREACHER.  It  was  so  on 
this  voyage.  There  were  three  Methodist  circuit  riders 


76  BREAKING    A    BANK. 

on  board  ;  and  it  happened  that  we  got  acquainted,  and 
were  a  good  deal  together — from  which  circumstance  I 
was  supposed  to  be  one  of  them  ;  which  supposition  was 
the  means  of  bringing  me  into  an  acquaintance  with  the 
lady  passengers,  who,  for  the  most  part,  were  very  pious, 
religiously  inclined  souls.  We  had  preaching  every  day, 
and  sometimes  at  night ;  and  I  must  say,  in  justice  to 
brothers  Twitchel  and  Switchell,  that  their  sermons  were 
highly  edifying  arid  instructive. 

In  the  mean  time,  a  portion  of  the  passengers  "  at  thf1 
other  end  of  the  hall"  continued  to  play  sundry  games 
with  cards,  notwithstanding  the  remonstrances  of  the 
worthy  followers  of  Wesley,  who  frequently  requested 
the  captain  to  interfere  and  break  up  such  unholy  doings. 
The  captain  had  but  one  answer — it  was  something  like 
this :  "  Gentlemen,  amuse  yourselves  as  you  like  ;  preach 
and  pray  to  your  hearts'  content — none  shall  interfere 
with  your  pious  purposes ;  some  like  that  sort  of  thing 
— /  have  no  objection  to  it.  These  men  prefer  to  amuse 
themselves  with  cards ;  let  them — they  pay  their  pas 
sage  as  well  as  you,  gentlemen,  and  have  as  much  right 
to  their  amusements  as  you  have  to  yours,  and  they  shall 
not  be  disturbed.  Preach,  play  cards,  dance  cotillions 
— do  what  you  like,  /  am  agreeable  ;  only  understand 
that  all  games  (preaching  among  the  rest)  must  cease  at 
ten  o'clock."  So  we  preachers  got  very  little  comfort 
from  Captain  Summons. 

Up — up,  up — up  we  went.  Christmas  day  arrived. 
All  the  other  preachers  had  holden  forth  on  divers  occa 
sions,  and  it  being  ascertained  that  it  was  my  inten 
tion  to  leave  the  boat  on  her  arrival  at  Cairo,  a  formal 
request  was  preferred,  that  I  should  preach  the  Christmas 


BREAKING   A    BANK.  7 

sermon  !  The  LADIES  (God  bless  them  all !)  were  very 
urgent  in  their  applications  to  me.  "  Oh  cfo,  brother 
Smith !  we  want  to  hear  you  preach !  All  the  others 
have  contributed  their  share  to  our  spiritual  comfort — 
you  must  oblige  us — indeed  you  must."  I  endeavoured 
to  excuse  myself  the  best  way  I  could,  alleging  the 
necessity  of  my  leaving  the  boat  in  less  than  an  hour — 
my  baggage  was  not  ready — I  had  a  terrible  cold,  and 
many  other  good  and  substantial  reasons  were  given  ; 
but  all  in  vain — preach  I  must.  "  Well,"  thinks  I,  "if 
I  must,  I  must."  At  this  crisis,  casting  my  eyes  down 
towards  the  Social  Hall,  and  seeing  an  unusual  crowd 
assembled  around  a  table,  I  asked  one  of  the  brethren 
what  might  be  going  on  down  there  ?  The  fattest  of  the 
preaching  gentlemen  replied — "  The  poor  miserable  sin 
ners  have  filled  the  measure  of  their  iniquity  by  opening 
a  FARO  BANK!"  "  Horrible  !"  exclaimed  I,  holding  up 
my  hands — and  "horrible !"  echoed  the  ladies  and  mis 
sionaries  in  full  chorus.  "  Cannot  such  doings  be  put 
a  stop  to  ?"  asked  an  elderly  lady,  addressing  the  pious 
tra  vellers.  "  I  fear  not,"  groaned  my  Methodist  contem 
porary,  (the  fat  one.)  "  We  have  been  trying  to  con 
vince  the  captain  that  some  dreadful  accident  will  inevi 
tably  befall  the  boat,  if  such  proceedings  are  permitted — 
and  what  do  you  think  he  answered ?"  "  What?"  we 
all  asked,  of  course.  "  Why,  he  just  said,  that,  inas 
much  as  he  permitted  us  to  preach  and  pray,  he  should 
let  other  passengers  dance  and  play,  if  they  chose  to  do 
so;  and  that  if  I  didn't  like  the  c proceedings'  I  com 
plained  of  /  might  leave  the  boat !  Yes — he  did  ;  and, 
moreover,  he  mentioned  that  it  was  eleven  o'clock,  and 
asked  me  if  I  wouldn't  *  liquor  !'  "  This  announcement 


78  BREAKING   A    BANK. 

of  the  captain's  stubbornness  and  impiety  was  met  with 
a  general  groan  of  pity  and  sorrow,  and  we  resumed  the 
conversation  respecting  the  unhallowed  faro  bank.  "  It 
is  much  to  be  regretted,"  remarked  the  elderly  lady  who 
had  spoken  before,  "that  something  can't  be  done — 
Brother  Smith,"  she  continued,  appealing  directly  to  me, 
and  laying  her  forefinger  impressively  upon  my  arm, 
"  cannot  you  break  up  that  bank  ?"  "  Dear  Madam," 
I  answered,  "  you  know  not  the  difficulty  of  the  task 
you  impose  upon  me — FARO  BANKS  ARE  NOT  so  EASILY 
BROKEN  UP  as  you  may  imagine ;  however,  as  you  all 
appear  so  anxious  about  it,  if  you'll  excuse  me  from  the 
sermon,  I'll  see  what  can  be  done."  "  Ah !  that's  a 
dear  soul !" — "  I  knew  he  would  try" — "  He'll  be  sure 
to  succeed!" — "Our  prayers  shall  not  be  wanting!" 
Such  were  the  exclamations  that  greeted  me,  as  I  moved 
off  towards  the  faro  bank.  Elbowing  my  way  into  the 
crowd,  I  got  near  the  table  in  front  of  the  dealer,  and 
was  for  a  time  completely  concealed  from  the  view  of 
my  pious  friends  near  the  door  of  the  ladies'  cabin.  I 
found  the  bank  was  a  small  affair.  The  betters  were 
risking  trifling  sums,  ranging  from  six  to  twenty-five 
cents. 

"  Mr.  Dealer,"  I  remarked,  "  I  have  come  to  break 
up  this  bank."  "  The  deuse  you  have !"  replied  the 
banker — "  let's  see  you  do  it."  "  What  amount  have 
you  in  bank  ?"  I  inquired.  "  Eleven  dollars,"  was  his 
answer.  "  What  is  your  limit  ?"  asked  I.  "  A  dollar," 
he  replied.  "  Very  well,"  said  I,  placing  a  ragged  In 
diana  dollar  behind  the  queen — "  turn  on."  He  turned, 
and  the  king  won  for  me.  I  took  the  two  dollars  up 
and  let  him  make  another  turn,  when  I  replaced  the  bet, 


BREAKING    A   BANK.  79 

and  the  queen  came  up  in  my  farvour ;  I  had  now  four 
dollars,  which  I  placed  in  the  square,  taking  in  the  5,  6, 
7,  and  8 — and  it  won  again !  Here  were  seven  dollars 
of  the  banker's  money.  I  pocketed  three  of  them,  and 
bet  four  dollars  behind  the  queen  again ;  the  Jack  won, 
and  the  BANK  WAS  BROKEN  !  The  crowd  dispersed  in 
all  directions,  laughing  at  the  breaking  up  of  the  petty 
bank,  and  I  made  my  way  towards  the  ladies'  cabin, 
where  my  new  friends  were  anxiously  awaiting  the  re 
sult  of  my  bold  attempt.  "  Well,  well,  well,"  they  all 
exclaimed — "  What  success  ? — have  you  done  it  ?  Do 
let  us  hear  all  about  it!"  I  wiped  the  perspiration  from 
my  brow,  and  putting  on  a  very  serious  face,  I  said 
solemnly:  "I  HAVE  BROKEN  THAT  BANK!"  "You 
have  ?"  they  all  exclaimed.— "Yes,  I'll  be  d— d  if  he 
hasn't !"  muttered  the  disappointed  gamester,  th»  keeper 
of  the  late  bank,  who  was  just  going  into  his  state-room. 
In  the  midst  of  the  congratulations  which  were  showered 
upon  me,  I  received  a  summons  from  the  captain  to 
come  forward  with  my  baggage — we  were  at  Cairo. 


TAKING  THE  CENSUS. 

SOME  rich  scenes  occur  in  taking  the  Census  under 
the  late  law  of  the  State  of  New  York  for  that  purpose. 
The  following,  from  an  eye  witness,  is  one : 

"Is  the  head  of  the  family  at  home?"  asks  the  in 
quiring  marshal. 

"  Here's  the  devil  with  his  book  again  for  the  d'rec- 
try"  shouts  a  junior  of  the  family  to  the  maternal  head 
above  stairs,  who  presently  appears.  "  Is  it  the  heads 
of  the  family  ye  want  sure ;  but  last  week  ye  wanted 
our  name  for  ye  tfrectry  an'  now  ye  want  our  heads  ? 
A  free  Country  this,  sure,  when  one's  head  is  not  safe. 
Be  off,  and  bad  luck  to  ye  and  all  like  ye."  After 
some  explanations,  the  questions  in  order  are  asked. 

"  Who  is  the  head  of  the  family  ?" 

"  Ann  Phelim,  yer  honor,  the  same  in  ould  Ireland 
for  ever." 

"How  many  Males  in  this  family?" 

"  Three  males  a  day  with  prateys  for  dinner  an" — 

"  But  how  many  Men  and  Boys  ?" 

"  Och,  why  there's  the  ould  man  an'  the  boy  and 
three  children  who  died  five  years  ago,  heaven  rest 
their  dear  souls,  the  swatest  jewils  that  iver" — 

"  But  how  many  are  now  living  ?" 

"Meself,  and  me  daughter  Judy,  ye  see  them,  and 
a  jewil  of  a  girl  she  is  indeed." 

"  But  have  you  no  males  in  your  family  ?" 
•  *  Sorra  the  one  ;  the  ould  man  works  hard  by  the  day, 
80 


TAKING    THE    CENSUS.  81 

and  Patrick  is  not  at  home  at  all,  but  to  his  males  and 
his  bed." 

"  How  many  are  subject  to  Military  duty  ?" 
"  Niver  a  one  ;  Patrick  and  the  ould  man  belong  to 
the  Immits,  and  sure  finer  looking  soldiers  were  niver 
born :  did  ye  not  see  him  when  the  old  Gineral  was 
buried?  'twould  have  made  your  heart  beat  to  see  two 
such  fine  lookin'  gintale  well-behaved  boys." 
u  How  many  are  entitled  to  vote  ?" 
"  Why  the  ould  man  and  meseJf  and  Judy,  and  warn't 
it  we  that  bate  the  Natives  an'  the  Whigs  an'  all,  an' 
elicted  ould  General  Jackson  over  'im  all.      Sorra  the 
day  when  he  died  and  disappointed  us  all,  for  a  fine 
man  he  was." 

"  How  many  coloured  persons  in  your  family  ?" 
"  Nagers,  did  you  name  Nagers  ?  Out  man,  an' 
don't  be  insultin'  me.  Out  wid  ye,  and  niver  ask  for 
me  senses  agin — don't  ask  about  me  senses — whither  I 
have  nagers  in  the  family  ?  Yer  out  of  yer  senses^  yer- 
self,  begone  and  don't  bother  me." 


DICK  HARLAN'S  TENNESSEE  FROLIC. 


We  wish  we  were  at  liberty  to  disclose  the  name  and  habitation 
of  the  writer  of  the  incident  annexed,  for  then  we  are  assured 
his  friends  would  insist  upon  his  becoming  a  more  regular  cor 
respondent  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  in  the  columns  of  which 
he  made  his  debut. 

You  may  talk  of  your  bar  hunts.,  Mister  Porter,  and 
your  deer  hunts,  and  knottin  tigers'  tails  thru  the  bung- 
holes  of  barrels,  an  cock  fitin,  and  all  that,  but  if  a  regular 
bilt  frolick  in  the  Nobs  of  "  Old  Knox,"  don't  beat  'em 
all  blind  for  fun,  then  I'm  no  judge  of  fun,  that's  all!  I 
said  Jun,  and  I  say  it  agin,  from  a  kiss  that  cracks  like 
a  wagin-whip  up  to  zjite  that  rouses  up  all  out-doors — 
and  as  to  laffin,  why  they  invented  laffin,  and  the  last  laff 
will  be  hearn  at  a  Nob  dance  about  three  in  the  morning ! 
Pm  jest  gettin  so  I  can  ride  arter  the  motions  I  made  at 
one  at  Jo  Spraggins's  a  few  days  ago. 

I'll  try  and  tell  you  who  Jo  Spraggins  is.  He's  a 
squire,  a  school  comishoner,  overlooker  of  a  mile  of  Nob 
road  that  leads  towards  Roody^s  still-house — a  fiddler,  a 
judge  of  a  hoss,  and  a  hoss  himself!  He  can  belt  six 
shillins  worth  of  corn-juice  at  still-house  rates  and  travel 
— can  out-shute  and  out-lie  any  feller  from  the  Smoky 
Mounting  to  Noxville,  and,  if  they'll  bar  one  feller  in 
Nox,  I'll  say  to  the  old  Kaintuck  Line !  (I'm  sorter  feared 
of  him,  for  they  say  that  he  lied  a  jackass  to  death  in  two 
82 


83 

hours!) — can  make  more  spinin- wheels,  kiss  more  spin 
ners,  thrash  more  wheat  an  more  men  than  any  one-eyed 
man  I  know  on.  He  hates  a  circuit  rider,  a  nigger,  and 
a  shot  gun — loves  a  woman,  old  sledge,  and  sin  in  eny 
shape.  He  lives  in  a  log  hous  about  ten  yards  squar  : 
it  has  two  rooms,  one  at  the  bottom  an  one  at  the  top  of 
the  ladder — has  all  out  ove  doors  fur  a  yard,  and  all  the 
South  fur  its  occupants  at  times.  He  gives  a  frolick  onst 
in  three  weeks  in  plowin  time,  and  one  every  Saturday- 
nite  the  balance  of  the  year,  and  only  axes  a  "  fip"  for 
a  reel,  and  two  "  bits"  fur  what  corn-juice  you  suck ; 
he  throws  the  galls  in,  and  a  bed  too  in  the  hay,  if  you 
git  too  hot  to  locomote.  The  supper  is  made  up  by  the 
fellers  ;  every  one  fetches  sumthin  ;  sum  a  lick  of  meal, 
sum  a  middlin  of  bacon,  sum  a  hen,  sum  a  possum,  sum 
a  punkin,  sum  a  grab  of  taters,  or  a  pocket  full  of  peas, 
or  dried  apples,  an  sum  only  fetches  a  good  appetite  and 
a  skin  chock  full  of  particular  devilry,  and  if  thars  been 
a  shutin  match  for  beef  the  day  before,  why  a  leg  finds 
its  way  to  Jo's  sure,  without  eny  help  from  the  balance 
of  the  critter.  He  gives  Jim  Smith  (the  store-keeper 
over  Bay's  Mounting)  warnin  to  fetch  a  skane  of  silk  fur 
fiddle  strings,  and  sum  "  Orleans"  for  sweetnin,  or  not 
to  fetch  himself ;  the  silk  and  sugar  has  never  failed 
to  be  thar  yet.  Jo  then  mounts  Punkinslinger  bar  back 
ed,  about  three  hours  afore  sun  ^pwn,  and  gives  all  the 
galls  item.  He  does  this  a  lettle  of  the  slickest — jist 
rides  past  in  a  peart  rack,  singin, 

"  Oh,  I  met  a  frog1,  with  a  fiddle  on  his  back, 
A  axin  his  way  to  the  fro-1-i-c-k  1 
Wha-a-he  !  wha  he !  wha  he !  wha  ke  he-ke-he !" 

That's  enuf !     The  galls  nows  that  aint  a  jackass,  so 


84 

oy  sun-down  they  come  pourin  out  of  the  woods  like 
pissants  out  of  an  old  log  when  tother  end's  afire,  jest 
u  as  fine  as  silk"  and  full  of  fun,  fixed  out  in  all  sorts 
of  fancy  doins,  from  the  broad-striped  homespun  to  the 
sunflower  calico,  with  the  thunder-and-lightnin  ground. 
As  for  silk,  if  one  had  a  silk  gown  she'd  be  too  smart  to 
wear  it  to  Jo  Spraggins's,  fur  if  she  did  she'd  go  home 
in  hir  petticote-tale  sartin,  for  the  homespun  wud  tare 
it  off  of  hir  quicker  nor  winkin,  and  if  the  sunflowers 
didenthelp  the  homespuns,  they  woudn't  do  the  silk  eny 
good,  so  you  see  that  silk  is^  never  ratlin  about  your  ears 
at  a  Nob  dance. 

The  sun  had  about  sot  afore  I  got  the  things  fed  an 
had  Barkmill  saddled,  (you'll  larn  directly  why  I  call 
my  poney  Barkmill,)  but  an  owl  couldent  have  cotch  a 
rat  afore  I  was  in  site  of  Jo's  with  my  gall,  Jule  Sawyers, 
up  behind  me.  She  hugged  me  mity  tite  she  was  "  so 
feerd  of  fallin  off  that  drated  poney."  She  said  she 
didn't  mind  a  fall,  but  it  mought  break  hir  leg  an  then 
good  bye  frolicks — she'd  be  fit  fur  nuthin  but  to  nuss  brats 
oilers  arterwards.  I  now  hearn  the  fiddle  ting-tong-ding- 
domb.  The  yard  was  full  of  fellers,  and  two  tall  fine- 
lookin  galls  was  standin  in  the  door,  face  to  face,  holdin 
up  the  door  posts  with  their  backs,  laffin,  an  castin  sly 
looks  into  the  house,  an  now  an  then  kickin  each  other 
with  their  knees,  an  jjien  the  one  kicked  wud  bow  so 
perlite,  and  quick  at  that,  and  then  they'd  laff  agin  an 
turn  red.  Jo  was  a  standin  in  the  hous  helpin  the  galls 
to  hold  the  facins  up,  an  when  they'd  kick  each  other 
he'd  wink  at  the  fellers  in  the  yard  an  grin.  Jule,  she 
bounced  off  just  like  a  bag  of  wool-rolls,  and  I  hitched 
my  bark-machine  up  to  a  sapiin  that  warn't  skinned,  so 


85 

ne'd  git  a  craw-full  of  good  fresh  bark  afore  mornin.  I 
giv  Jule  a  kiss  to  sorter  molify  my  natur  an  put  her  in 
heart  like,  and  in  we  walked.  "  Hey !  hurray  !"  said 
the  boys ;  "  My  gracious!"  said  the  galls,  "  if  here  aint 
Dick  an  Jule  !"  jist  like  we  hadent  been  rite  thar  only 
last  Saturday  nite.  "  Well,  I  know  we'll  have  reel  now !" 
"  Hurraw  ! — Go  it  while  you'r  young !"  "  Hurraw  for 
the  brimstone  kiln — every  man  praise  his  country!" 
"  Clar  the  ring !"  "  Misses  Spraggins,  drive  out  these 
dratted  tow-headed  brats  of  your'n — give  room!" 
"Who-oo- whoop !  whar's  the  crock  of  bald-face,  and 
that  gourd  of  honey  ?  Jim  Smith,  hand  over  that  spoon, 
an  quit  a  lickin  it  like  "  sank  in  a  bean-pot."  "  You,  Jake 
Snyder,  don't  holler  so !"  says  the  old  'oman — "  why  you 
are  worse  nor  a  painter."  "Holler!  why  I  was  jist 
whispering  to  that  gall  on  the  bed — who-a-whoopee  !  now 
I'm  beginning  to  holler!  Did  you  hear  that,  Misses 
Spraggins,  and  be  darned  to  your  bar  legs?  You'd 
make  a  nice  hemp-brake,  you  would."  "  Come  here, 
Suse  Thompson,  and  let  me  pin  your  dress  behind  ? 
Your  back  looks  adzactly  like  a  blaze  on  a  white  oak !" 
"  My  back  ain't  nuffin  to  you,  Mister  Smarty !"  "  Bill 
Jones,  quit  a  smashin  that  ar  cat's  tail !"  "  Well  let  hir 
keep  hir  tail  clar  of  my  ant  killers !"  "  Het  Goins,  stop 
tumblin  that  bed  an  tie  your  sock!"  "  Thankee,  marm, 
its  a  longer  stockin  than  you've  got — look  at  it  /"  "  Jim 
Clark  has  gone  to  the  woods  for  fat  pine,  and  Peggy 
Willet  is  along  to  take  a  lite  for  him — they've  been  gone 
a  coon's  age.  Oh,  here  comes  the  lost l  babes  in  the  wood,' 
and  wo  lite  /"  "  Whar's  that  lite '  whar's  that  torch !  I 
say,  Peggy,  whar  is  that  bundle  of  lite  wood  ?"  "  Why, 
I  fell  over  a  log  an  lost  it,  and  we  hunted  clar  to  the 
F 


86  DICK  HARLAN'S  TENNESSEE  FROLIC. 

foot  of  the  holler  for  it,  and  never  found  it.  It's  no  ac 
count,  no  how — nuthin  but  a  little  pine — who  cares  ?" 
"  Hello,  thar,  gin  us  <  Forked  Deer,"  old  fiddle-teazer, 
or  I'll  give  you  forked  litnin !  Jlr  you  a  goin  to  turn-turn 
all  nite  on  that  pot-gutted  old  pine  box  of  a  fiddle,  say?" 
"  Give  him  a  soak  at  the  crock  and  a  lick  at  the  patent 
bee-hive — it'll  He  his  elbows."  "Misses  Spraggins, 
you're  a  hoss !  cook  on,  don't  mind  me — I  dident  aim 
to  slap  you  ;  it  was  Suze  Winters  I  wanted  to  hit ;  but 
you  stooped  so  fair — "  "  Yes,  and  it's  well  for  your 
good  looks  that  you  didn't  hit  to  hurt  me,  old  feller!" 
"  Turn  over  them  rashes  of  bacon,  they're  a  burnin !" 
"  Mind  your  own  business,  Bob  Proffit,  I've  cooked  for 
frolicks  afore  you  shed  your  petticotes — so  jist  hush  an 
talk  to  Marth  Giffin  !•  See !  she  is  beckonin  to  you !" 
"  That's  a  lie,  marm  !  If  he  comes  a  near  me  I'll  unjint 
his  dratted  neck !  No  sech  fool  that  when  a  gall  puts  hir 
arm  round  his  neck  will  break  and  run,  shall  look  at  me, 
that's  flat !  Go  an  try  Bet  Holden !"  "  Thankee,  marm, 
I  don't  take  your  leavins,"  says  Bet,  hir  face  lookin  like 
a  full  cross  between  a  gridiron  and  a  steel-trap. 

"  Whoop !  hurraw !  Gether  your  galls  for  a  break 
down  !  Give  us  c  Forked  Deer  !' '  "  No,  give  us 
c  Natchez-under-the-hill  !'  "  "  Oh,  Shucks  !  give  us 
1  Rocky  Mounting,'  or  f  Misses  McCloud  !'  "  "  <  Mis 
ses  McCloud  '  be  darned,  and  '  Rocky  Mounting  '  too  ! 
jist  give  us 
"  She  woudent,  and  she  coudent,  and  she  dident  come  at  all !" 

"Thar!  that's  it !  Now  make  a  brake  !  Tang!  Thar 
is  a  brake — a  string's  gone  !"  "  Thar'll  be  a  head  broke 
afore  long !"  "  Giv  him  goss — no  giv  him  a  horn  and 
every  time  he  stops  repeat  the  dose,  and  nar  another  string 


87 

'ill  brake  to  nite.     Tink-tong !  all  rite  !     Now  go  it !" 
and  if  I  know  what  goin  it  is,  we  did  go  it. 

About  midnite,  Misses  Spraggins  sung  out  "  stop  that 
ar  dancin  and  come  and  get  your  supper!"  It  was  sot 
in  the  yard  on  a  table  made  of  forks  stuck  in  the  ground 
and  plank  of  the  stable  loft,  with  sheets  for  table  cloths. 
We  had  danced,  kissed,  and  drank  ourselves  into  a  per 
fect  thrashin-machine  apetite,  and  the  vittals  hid  them 
selves  in  a  way  quite  alarmin  to  tavern-keepers.  Jo  sung 
out  "  Nives  is  scase,  so  give  what  thar  is  to  the  galls  an 
let  the  balance  use  thar  paws — they  was  invented  afore 
nives,  eney  how.  Now,  Gents,  jist  walk  into  the  fat  of 
this  land.  I'm  sorter  feerd  the  honey  wont  last  till  day 
break,  but  the  liquor  will,  Ithink,  so  you  men  when  you 
drink  your'n,  run  an  kiss  the  galls  fur  sweetnin — let  them 
have  the  honey — it  belongs  to  them,  naturaly !" — "  Hur- 
raw,  my  Jo!  You  know  how  to  do  things  rite!" 
"  Well,  I  rayther  think  I  do  ;  I  never  was  rong  but  onst 
in  my  life  an  then  I  mistook  a  camp  meetin  for  a  political 
speechifyin,  so  I  rid  up  an  axed  the  speaker  <  how  much 
Tarrif  there  was  on  rot- gut? 'and  he  said  'about  here,  there 
appeared  to  be  none !'  That  rayther  sot  me,  as  I  was  right 
smartly  smoked,  myself,  jist  at  that  time.  I  had  enough 
liquor  plump  in  me  to  swim  a  skunk,  so  I  come  agin  at 
him.  I  axed  him  'Who  was  the  bigest  fool  the  Bible 
told  of?'  an  he  said  £  Noah  for  he'd  get  tite  V  I  thought, 
mind,  I  only  thought  he  might  be  a  pokin  his  dead  cat 
at  somebody  what  lives  in  this  holler  ;  I  felt  my  bristles 
a  raisin  my  jacket-back  up  like  a  tent  cloth,  so  I  axed 
him  if  he'd  '  ever  seed  the  ElephantT  He  said  no,  but 
he  had  seen  a  grocery  walk,  and  he  expected  to  see  one 
rot  down  from  its  totterin  looks,  purty  soon !'  Thinks  I, 


Jo,  you're  beat  at  your  own  game  ;  I  sorter  felt  mean,  so 
I  spurr'd  and  sot  old  Punkinslinger  to  cavortin  like  he 
was  skeered,  an  I  wheeled  and  twisted  out  of  that  crowd, 
an  when  I  did  git  out  of  site  the  way  I  did  sail  was  a  cau 
tion  to  turtles  and  all  the  other  slow  varmints." 

Well,  we  danced,  and  hurrawed  without  eny  thing  of 
very  perticular  interest  to  happen,  till  about  three  o'clock, 
when  the  darndest  muss  was  kicked  up  you  ever  did  see. 
Jim  Smith  sot  down  on  the  bed  alongside  of  Bet  Holden 
(the  steel-trap  gall,)  and  jist  fell  to  huggin  of  hir  bar  fa 
shion.  She  tuck  it  very  kind  till  she  seed  Sam  Henry  a 
looking  on  from  behind  about  a  dozen  galls,  then  she  fell 
to  kickin  an  a  hollerin,  an  a  screetchin  like  all  rath.  Sam 
he  come  up  an  told  Jim  to  let  Bet  go  !  Jim  told  him  to 
go  to  a  far  off  countrie  whar  they  give  away  brimestone 
and  throw  in  the  fire  to  burn  it.  Sam  hit  him  strate  a- 
tweeri  the  eyes,  an  after  a  few  licks  the  fitin  started.  Oh 
hush !  It  makes  my  mouth  water  now  to  think  what  a 
beautiful  row  we  had.  One  feller  from  Cady's  Cove, 
nocked  a  hole  in  the  bottom  of  a  fryin-pan  over  Dan 
Turner's  head,  and  left  it  a  hangin  round  his  neck,  the 
handle  flyin  about  like  a  long  que,  ane  thar  it  hung  till 
Jabe  Thurman  cut  it  off  with  a  cold  chissel  next  day  ! 
That  was  his  share,  fur  that  nite,  sure.  Another  feller 
got  nocked  into  a  meal-barrel :  he  was  as  mealy  as  an  Irish 
tater  and  as  hot  as  hoss-radish ;  when  he  bursted  the  hoops 
and  cum  out  he  rared  a  few.  Two  fellers  fit  out  of  the 
door,  down  the  hill,  and  into  the  creek,  and  thar  ended 
it,  in  a  quiet  way,  all  alone.  A  perfect  mule  from  Stock 
Creek  hit  me  a  wipe  with  a  pair  of  windin  blades  :  he 
made  kindlin-wood  of  them,  an  I  lit  on  him.  We  had 
it  head-and-tails  fur  a  very  long  time,  all  over  the  house, 


89 

but  the  truth  must  come  and  shame  my  kin,  he  warped 
me  nice,  so,  jist  to  save  his  time  I  hollered  !  The  lickin 
he  give  me  made  me  sorter  oneasy  and  hostile  like ;  it 
wakened  my  wolf  wide  awake,  so  I  begin  to  look  about 
for  a  man  I  could  lick  and  no  mistake  !  The  little  fiddler 
come  a  scrougin  past,  holdin  his  fiddle  up  over  his  head 
to  keep  it  in  tune,  for  the  fitin  was  gettiri  tolerable  brisk. 
You're  the  one,  thinks  I,  and  I  jist  grabbed  the  dough- 
tray  and  split  it  plumb  open  over  his  head !  He  rotted 
down,  right  thar,  and  I  paddled  his  'tother  end  with  one 
of  the  pieces ! — while  I  was  a  molifyin  my  feelings  in 
that  way  his  gall  slip'd  up  behind  me  and  fetcht'd  me  a 
rake  with  the  pot-hooks.  Jule  Sawyer  was  thar,  and  jist 
anexed  to  her  rite  off,  and  a  mity  nice'  fite  it  was.  Jule 
carried  enuf  har  from  hir  hed  to  make  a  sifter,  and 
striped  and  checked  her  face  nice,  like  a  partridge-net 
hung  on  a  white  fence.  She  hollered  fur  hir  fiddler,  but 
oh,  shawl  he  coudent  do  hir  a  bit  of  good;  he  was 
too  buisy  a  rubbin  first  his  broken  head  and  then  his 
blistered  extremities,  so  when  I  thought  Jule  had  given 
her  a  plenty  I  pulled  hir  off  and  put  hir  in  a  good  humour 
by  given  hir  about  as  many  kisses  as  would  cover  a 
barn  door. 

Well,  I  thought  at  last,  if  I  had  a  drink  I'd  be  about 
done,  so  I  started  for  the  creek ;  and  the  first  thing  I  saw 
was  more  stars  with  my  eyes  shut  than  I  ever  did  with 
them  open.  I  looked  round,  and  it  was  the  little  fiddler's 
big  brother  !  Iknowed  what  it  meant,  so  we  locked  horns 
without  a  word,  thar  all  alone,  and  I  do  think  we  fit  an 
hour.  At  last  some  fellers  hearn  the  jolts  at  the  house, 
and  they  cum  and  dug  us  out,  for  we  had  fit  into  a  hole 
whar  a  big  pine  stump  had  burnt  out,  and  thar  we  was, 


90 

up  to  our  girths  a  peggin  away,  face  to  face,  and  no 
dodgin  ! 

Well,  it  is  now  sixteen  days  since  that  fite,  and  last 
nite  Jule  picked  gravels  out  of  my  knees  as  big  as  squirell 
shot.  Luck  rayther  run  agin  me  that  nite,  fur  I  dident 
lick  eny  body  but  the  fiddler,  and  had  three  fites — but 
Jule  licked  her  gall,  that's  some  comfort,  and  I  suppose 
a  feller  cant  always  win!  Arter  my  fite  in  the  ground 
we  made  friends  all  round,  (except  the  fiddler — he's  hot 
yet,)  and  danced  and  liquored  at  the  tail  of  every  Reel 
till  sun  up,  when  them  that  was  sober  enuff  went  home, 
and  them  that  was  wounded  staid  whar  they  fell,  /was 
in  the  list  of  wounded,  but  could  have  got  away  if  my 
bark-  mill  hadn't  ground  off  'the  saplin  and  gone  home 
without  a  parting  word ;  so  Dick  and  Jule  had  to  ride 
u  Shanks'  mar,"  and  a  rite  peart  four-leged  nag  she  is. 
She  was  weak  in  two  of  hir  legs,  but  'tother  two — oh,  my 
stars  and  possum  dogs !  they  make  a  man  swaller  to- 
backer  jist  to  look  at  'em,  and  feel  sorter  like  a  June 
bug  was  crawlin  up  his  trowses  and  the  waistband  too 
tite  for  it  to  git  out.  I'm  agoin  to  marry  Jule,  I  swar  I 
am,  and  sich  a  cross !  Think  of  a  locomotive  and  a  cot- 
Ion  gin !  Who !  whoopee ! 


"FALLING  OFF  A  LOG,"  IN  A  GAME  OF 
"SEVEN-UP." 

BY   A   VIRGINIAN   IN   MISSISSIPPI. 

14  The  Turkey  Runner"  is  the  signature  of  a  gentleman  who  has 
written  some  of  the  most  graphic  and  amusing  original  stories 
ever  published  in  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times."  His  "  Swim 
for  a  Deer,"  "  Chunkey's  Fight  with  the  Panthers,"  etc.,  are 
among  the  best  sporting  sketches  in  the  language.  We  wish 
he  could  be  induced  to  write  more  frequently. 

"Hoss  and  boss!" 

"  Yes ;  '  hoss  and  boss,'  and  my  deal !" 

"  I'll  double  tbe  bet,  and  bave  the  whole  bottle  or 
none." 

"  Let  me  cut,  and  I'll  stand  it." 

"  'Spose  we  both  take  a  little  drink  first,"  said 
Chunkey. 

"  No :  darned  if  I  do !  thar  aint  enougb  for  us  both — 
if  I  win  I'll  drink  it,  and  you  must  wait  till  a  boat 
comes,  if  you  die!  If  you  win,  I'll  wait,  if  I  die!" 

Such  was  the  conversation  between  Jim  and  Chunkey, 
as  they  were  sitting  across  a  log  on  the  banks  of  the 
Yazoo  River,  surrounded  by  a  cloud  of  musquitoes, 
playing  "  seven-up"  for  a  remaining  bottle  of  whisky, 
which  was  not  enough  for  the  two,  and  "  wouldn't  set 
one  forward"  much.  They  were  just  returning  from 
Bear  Creek,  in  Township  17,  Range  1,  where  they  had 

91 


92  "FALLING  OFF  A  LOG." 

some  hands  deadening  timber,  preparatory  to  opening  a 
plantation  in  the  Fall.  They  had  sent  the  negroes  to 
the  river  to  take  a  steamboat,  whilst  they,  with  their 
furniture,  and  the  remains  of  a  forty-two  gallon  "  red 
head,"  came  down  Deer  Creek  in  a  day  out  into  False 
Lake,  through  False  Lake  into  Wasp  Lake,  and  down 
that  to  where  it  empties  into  the  Yazoo,  and  here  on 
the  banks  of  that  river  our  scene  opens. 

"Go  ahead,  then,"  said  Chunkey,  "shuffle,  deal, 
and  win,  if  you  can,  but  take  out  that  Jack  what's 
torn!" 

I  took  the  Jack  out,  shuffled,  dealt,  and  at  it  we 
went.  Chunkey  looked  mighty  scared ;  his  eye  was 
sorter  oneasy,  and^dartin  about,  and  he  seemed  to  be 
choked,  as  he  kept  tryin  to  s waller  somethin — the  long 
beard  on  his  face  looked  powerful  black,  or  else  his  face 
looked  powerful  white,  one  or  the  'yether.  We  both 
played  mighty  slow  and  careful.  The  first  hand  I  made 
"  high,  low,"  and  Chunkey  "  game ;"  the  second  hand 
I  made  "low,  Jack,"  and  Chunkey  "high,  game." 

"  Four  to  three,"  says  I. 

"  Yes,  and  my  deal,"  said  Chunkey. 

He  gin  'em  the  Sunflower  "  shuffle,"  and  I  the  Big 
Greasy  "  cut,"  and  pushed  'em  back.  Chunkey  dealt 
em  mighty  slow,  and  kept  tryin  to  see  my  cards,  but  I 
laid  my  hand  on  'em  as  fast  as  they  fell  on  the  log,  to 
prevent  him  from  seein  the  marks.  He  turned  up  the 
Ace  of  Clubs.  When  I  looked  at  my  hand,  thar  was 
the  King,  Jack,  Nine,  and  Deuce, — I  led  my  King — 

"High!"  says  I. 

"  Low !"  said  Chunkey,  poppin  down  the  Tray. 

"  Not  edzactly,"  said  I,  hawlin  in  the  trick,   and 


"FALLING  OFF  A  LOG."  93 

leadin  the  Deuce,  and  jist  as  I  done  so,  I  seed  Chunkey 
starin  over  my  shoulder,  lookin  wilder  nor  a  dyin  bar. 
I  never  seed  a  man  look  so  awful  in  my  life.  I  thought 
he  were  gwine  to  have  a  fit. 

"Ya,  ya.!"  said  he,  "fallin  off  the  log,"  cryin 
"Snake!  snake!!" 

I  never  took  time  to  look,  but  made  a  big  he-spring 
about  twenty  feet  in  the  cane,  the  har  on  my  head 
standin  stiff  as  bristles  and  ratlin  like  a  raftsman's  bones, 
with  the  Sky  Lake  ager,  and  the  bad  feelins  runnin 
down  to  my  toes.  I  reckon  you  never  seed  a  man  so 
afraid  of  snakes  as  I  is,  and  I've  been  so  all  my  life ; 
I'd  rather  fight  the  biggest  bar  in  the  swamp  with  his 
own  weapons,  teeth  and  claws,  takin  it  rough  and  tum 
ble,  dependin  on  my  mind  and  knowledge  of  a  bar's 
character,  than  come  in  contact  with  a  big  rusty  highland 
moccasin  or  rattlesnake,  and  that's  vthe  reason  I  never 
hunts  in  the  summer  time.  When  I  lived  up  on  Deer 
Creek,  thar  was  a  perfect  cord  of  all  sorts,  and  I  used 
to  wear  all  summer  the  thickest  kind  of  cow-hide  boots, 
reachin  up  to  my  hips,  and  I  never  went  into  the  field, 
'ceptin  on  a  mule,  with  a  double-barreled  gun  at  that. 
This,  Chunkey  kriowed ;  and  whenever  he  seed  one  he 
gin  me  warnin.  Chunkey  aint  afraid  of  snakes ;  he'd 
jist  as  soon  eat  of  a  gourd  with  a  snake,  as  not,  if  the 
snake  would  help  himself  and  not  meddle  with  his 
licker. 

Well,  arter  lookin  about  a  spell  I  couldn't  see  no 
snake  sign,  and  I  then  hollered  to  Chunkey,  but  darned 
a  word  did  he  say.  It  then  flashed  across  my  mind  that 
as  Chunkey  fell  on  the  side  of  the  log  whar  the  licker 
lay,  he  might  sorter  taste  it,  as  he  were  dry  enough  to 


94  "FALLING  OFF  A  LOG." 

be  able  to  swaller  a  little  at  a  time  ;  so  I  struck  a  lick 
back  to  the  log  and  looked  over,  and  thar  he  lay,  jist 
curled  up  like  a  coon  in  the  sunshine,  and  the  bottle  jist 
glued  to  his  lips,  and  the  licker  runnin  down  his  throat 
like  a  storm !  darn  him,  I  hadden't  no  time  to  think  afore 
I  bounced  at  him!  I  struck  across  his  snout,  and  he 
nailed  my  thumb  in  his  jaws,  and  rostled  up  a  handful 
of  dirt  and  throwed  it  in  my  eyes,  and  that  sot  me  to 
gwine,  and  I  throwed  the  licks  into  him  right  and  left, 
and  I  made  the  fur  fly,  /  tell  you  ;  but  Chunkey  stood 
it  like  a  man!  Darned  the  word  did  he  say;  he 
wouldn't  holler,  he  was  perfectly  game  ! 

"  No,  that's  a  fact !  I  didn't  holler ;  I  didn't  have 
time ;  while  you  were  working  away  on  that  gum  knot, 
I  were  standin  up  agin  a  little  dog-wood  finishin  the 
licker!" 

"  How  comes  it  that  you  never  wrung  in  that  part  of 
the  story  about  the  knot  before  ?" 

"  'Cause,  I'd  done  got  the  licker,  and  I  was  satisfied  ; 
you  thought  you'd  gin  me  some  mighty  big  licks,  and 
you  was  satisfied  ;  and  it  would  have  been  mean  in  me 
to  crow  over  you  then :  you  was  out  of  licker,  tobacco, 
and  had  your  fist  all  skinned  and  beat  as  soft  as  a  bar's 
foot!  Oh  no,  Jim,  I'm  reasonable,  I  is." 

"Well,  go  along;  if  I  don't  set  you  to  gnawin 
somethin  harder  than  that  knot  afore  long,  then  my 
name  aint  nothin  to  me,  and  I  don't  car  for  nobody, 
that's  all." 

"All  sot,"  says  Chunkey,  "let's  licker.  You 
wanted  to  know  what  'fallin  ojf  a  log?  meant,  and  I 
thought  I'd  show  you  ;  but,  my  honey,  I'll  jis*  let  you 
know  if  you'd  a  hit  me  any  of  them  licks  what  you 


"  FALLING    OFF   A   LOG."  95 

struck  c  ri^ht  and  left'  into  that  knot,  I'd  a  gin  you  a 
touch  of  panter  fistcuffs — a  sort  of  cross  of  the  scratch 
on  the  bite — and  a  powerful  strong  game  it  is,  in  a  close 
fight.  Come,  gents,  let's  licker,  and  then  I  can  beat 
any  man  that  wars  har,  for  a  mighty  nice  chunk  of  a 
poney,  at  any  game  of  short  cards — 

Oh,  the  wagoner  was  a  mighty  man,  a  mighty  man  was  he : 
HeM  pop  his  whip,  and  stretch  his  chains,  and  holler  '  wo,  gee  V  ' 


THE  "WERRY  FAST  CRAB." 

BY   A   MEMBER   OF   THE    «  DIGBY   CLUB,"    BOSTON. 

Whether  "  Acorn"  or  "  The  Old  »Un"— the  editor  of  the  "  Morn 
ing  Post,"  (who  gave  these  lines  "  a  first  rate  notice,"  by  the 
bye,)  or  "  The  Young  'Un,"  was  the  writer  of  the  following 
epic — in  the  style  of  "  Pickle  Emmons" — this  deponent  saith 
not ;  he  simply  commends  them  to  those  lovers  of  horse  flesh 
who  are  in  the  habit  of  sporting  their  "  bits  of  blood"  on  the 
road — a  numerous  class  in  which  "  the  b'hoys"  greatly  pre 
dominate. 


THEY  may  talk  of  their  "  Fashion," 

And  "  Bonnets  of  Blue," 
Of  "Blue  Dick"  and  "  Ripton," 

And  "  Confidence"  too  ; 
Their  owners  were  lucky, 

But  I  made  a  grab  ; 
When  I  bought  for  a  trifle 

That  "  werry  fast  Crab." 

ii. 

"  Chest  foundered"  and  hairless, 
And  "  sprung"  though  she  be, 

She's  an  eye-sore  to  others, 

A  good  'un  to  me ; 
9G 


THE    "WERRY   FAST   CRAB."  97 

No  market  cart,  clam  cart, 

Or  sand  cart,  or  cab, 
Can  show  such  a  nag 

As  my  "  werry  fast  Crab." 

in. 
Braced  back  in  my  phaeton, 

A  "  six"  in  my  jaw, 
I  touches  her  up 

On  an  elegant  "  raw — " 
That  I  keeps  for  myself — 

When  I  gives  it  a  "  dab  ;" 
Off  flies,  like  a  tortoise, 

My  "  werry  fast  Crab." 

IV. 

Talk  of  ten  miles  an  hour ! 

It  causes  a  smile ; 
My  "  werry  fast  Crab" 

Goes  ten  hours  the  mile ; 
With  springs  on  her  fore-knees, 

As  slick  as  a  slab, 
She  stands  in  her  splices, 

My  "  werry  fast  Crab." 

v. 

She's  a  nice  easy  keeper, 

I  tell  you  the  truth ; 
And  this  is  the  reason, 

She's  narry  a  tooth ; 
Of  the  ages  of  females, 

One  ought  not  to  blab, 


93  THE    "WERRY   FAST   CRAB," 

So  I  shan't  say  no  more 
Of  the  age  of  my  "  Crab." 

VI. 

At  the  next  Cambridge  races 

Look  out  for  a  "  splore" — 
You'll  own  you  ne'er  saw 

Such  a  critter  before  : 
I'll  make  at  the  purse 

A  most  desperate  grab, 
If  it  cost  a  new  "  maw" 

On  my  "  werry  fast  Crab." 


"FRENCH  WITHOUT  A  MASTER." 

BY  "STRAWS,"  [JOSEPH  M.  FIELD,  ESQ.] 

Another  "  tip-top  thing"  by  the  editor  of  the  St.  Louis  "  Reveille,'5 
whose  sketches  of  domestic  life  are  among  the  cleverest  of  the 
many  which  he  is  in  the  habit  of  "  throwing  off  at  a  heat." 

MY  dear,  if  that  ain't  the  convenientest  book — that 
French  one,  with  the  yaller  cover — as  ever  was  ;  and 
only  to  cost  twenty-five  cents,  too!  There's  Bill  and 
Sally  does  nothin'  else  but  keep  a-askin  each  other  ques 
tions  in  it,  and  such  a  jabberin'  all  round  the  house,  I 
never  did  see !  They  can  say  a  good  deal  more  French 
already  than  them  stuck-up  Wilkins'  children  opposite, 
that's  bin  a  payin'  masters  Heaven  only  knows  how  long 
— and  here  comes  the  blessed  darlin's  now,  and  make 
'em  go  through  it  before  they  gets  a  bit  of  dinner,  you'll 
say  so,  too,  you  will." 

The  delighted  mother  goes  on  "  a  settin'  of  the  table," 
the  expectant  father  puts  down  his  hat, with  the  air  of  one 
suddenly  called  upon  to  preside  over  an  inquiry  which 
will  necessarily  call  forth  all  his  resources,  and  the  hope 
ful  "  Bill"  having  kicked  the  door  open,  is  met  by  the 
emulous  "  Sally,"  book  in  hand. 

"William,  your  mother  says  you're  a  good  boy,  and 
'tend  to  your  French.  Sally,  my  dear,  what's  a  kiss  in 
French. 

"  A  baiser,  pa." 

99 


100  "FRENCH  WITHOUT  A  MASTER." 

"  A  baiser  !  Let  me  see — c  baiser,  to  kiss.'  So  it  is. 
Well,  then,  baiser  your  brother,  and  both  come  here 
together." 

"  You,  Bill,  keep  your  fingers  out  of  the  pickles  or  I'll 
baiser  your  back  for  you.  Kiss  your  sister,  and  go  on 
as  your  pa  tells  you." 

Bill  drops  the  cucumber,  minus  one  end,  salutes  his 
sister  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  ear,  cracks  a  pecan  nut 
which  he  has  taken  from  his  pocket,  and,  with  the  non 
chalance  of  a  professor  of  languages,  looks  at  the  paternal 
examiner  as  he  would  say,  "  I  guess  I  know  more  than 
you  about  it." 

"  That's  right,  William,  always  observe  what  your 
mother  says  to  you.  What  is  your  mother  in  French, 
William?" 

"She's  a  mare." 

"  No,  brother  William — a  mere.     M-e-r-e,  mere." 

"  Well,  I  know  it's  m-e-r-e  ;  but  isn't  the  e  sounded 
loide,  like  a?  There's  the  wide  accents  and  the  sharp 
ones,  ain't  there  ?  A  great  deal  you  know  about  it. 
You'd  better  say  your  father  ain't  ajaear/" 

"  Eh  ?" 

"  Yes ;  I'm  a  man,  you  know.     A  man,  in  French  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know;  you're  a  hum." 

"  No  he  ain't,  neither ;  he's  a  liommy.  H-o-m  horn, 
m-e  me,  hommy — ain't  it  ?  And  a  woman's  zfemmy,  and 
a  lady  a  dammy,  just  the  same  !  I'm  always  a  tellin  her 
about  the  rules." 

"  Well,  well,  she's  younger  than  you  are,  you  know, 
William.  What  is  sister  in  French,  can  you  tell  ?" 

"  Yes — she's  a  sewer" 

"  No,  Bill,  I  ain't.     S-o-e-u-r,  sour  /" 


"FRENCH  WITHOUT  A  MASTER."  101 

"  Well,  ain't  the  o  a  dipthorp  ?  and  don't  you  drop  it, 
say?" 

"  No,  Bill,  the  e  is  the  dipthorp,  and  that  makes  it 
sour." 

"  Massy  on  the  children,  husband,  if  that  ain't  the 
way  they  keep  a  disputin'  from  mornin'  till  night.  There, 
come  along,  you  Bill  and  Sally  ;  your  father  can  ask 
you  all  about  the  table  things  in  French,  you  know. 
Come,  Hubby,  sit  down." 

"  D'ye  hear  your  mother,  my  dear ;  come  to  the  table. 
Leave  off' your  nuts,  Billy  ;  they  make  such  a  noise." 

"  Noise  is  brute,  and  nuts  is  knoyx,  and  table  is  tab- 
lie"  screams  the  erudite  Bill,  as  he  draws  up  his  chair 
and  spoils  the  other  end  of  the  cucumber. 

"  Now,  then,  my  dears,  in  the  first  place,  takey  voo 
some  pain,  and  fill  your  glasses  with  awe,  and  your  mo 
ther  will  help  you  to  hack.  Pain  is  bread,  my  love,  and 
awe  is  water,  amd  hack  is  hash.  You  see,  wify,  I  know 
something  about  it  myself.  Ha,  Ha!" 

"  Well,  what  the  world's  coming  to,  I  don't  know! 
What  with  Morse's  paragraph  and  steam  chickens  and 
learnin'  one's  self,  I  don't  belong  to  this  creation — I 
don't!" 

"  Now,  William,  what's  that  in  your  hand — not  the 
pickle,  the  knife  ?" 

It's  a  cut-o." 

"  So  it  is,  Billy,  'cause  the  dipthorp  is  all  sounded 
together  at  the  end ;  and  daddy  was  wrong  about  the 
water. ' ' — (aside. ) 

"  Oh,  he  don't  know  nothin'.  " — (aside,  also.) 

"The   dipthorp,  you  know,  Billy,  is  only  separate 
when  it's  got  a  diarhear  on  .top;" — (aside.) 
G 


102  "FRENCH  WITHOUT  A  MASTER." 

"Well,  I  know  that;  shut  up." 

"  Now,  husband,  just  let  me  ask  'em  a  little.  Sally, 
what's  this  I'm  eating  now?" 

"  Jaw-bane  and  choaks,  ma." 

"Ba-a-ur!  no  it  aint.  She  only  spells — she  can't 
pronounce.  You're  a  eating  shan-bung  and  shoe! 
Don't  know  what  ham  and  cabbage  is !  Ba-a-ur !" 

"  Sally,  my  love,  spelling's  a  great  deal ;  but  you 
must  mind  the  pronunciation.  Words  don't  sound  at 
all  as  they  look,  as  William  shows  you." 

"Yes;  she  went  and  said,  yesterday,  that  the  table 
cloth  was  a  toil  when  it's  towell,  and  began  a  crying 
'cause  I  said  a  glass  wasn't  a  very — Halloo!  Shovel 
run  away — shovel  run  away!  Oh,  look  there,  daddy — 
there's  the  hommy  off  and  he's  smashed  his  taty  'gainst 
the  pavy  !  The  roo  is  full  of  jowples — only  look — 

And  rushing  out  of  the  house,  dragging  after  him  the 
table-cloth  or  towell,  as  he  called  it,  the  student  of 
French  "  without  a  master"  disappeared ;  while  his 
anxious  parents,  running  to  the  window,  beheld  a  horse 
with  his  head  against  a  curb-stone,  a  gathering  crowd, 
and  the  hopeful  Billy  busiest  of  all ! 


A  ROLLICKING  DRAGOON  OFFICER, 

BY  "  THE   MAN    IN   THE   SWAMP." 

The  "Spirit  of  the  Times"  has  a  rare  correspondent  in  Mis 
sissippi,  who  signs  himself  the  Editor's  "Friend 'in  the 
Swamp."  He  is  an  extraordinary  genius,  and  has  some 
friends  who  are  no  less  "characters"  in  their  way.  Of 
one  of  them — an  officer  in  the  U.  S.  Dragoons — he  relates  the 
following : — 

IN  the  summer  of  1834,  trie  Dragoons  went  to  the 
Pawnee  Villages.  In  the  fall,  three  companies  under 
the  command  of  Col.  Kearney,  came  to  the  Des  Moines 
Rapids,  on  the  Mississippi,  and  wintered  there  in  some 
log  huts.  There  was  a  Captain  B.,  a  very  tall  man, 
six  feet  seven  inches,  (just  three  inches  over  me,  and 
I  think  I  am  "  some,")  with  very  large  black  whiskers, 
a  fine  looking  man — I  wonder  what  has  become  of 
him  ?  I  heard  that  he  had  resigned,  and  settled  some 
where  in  Iowa;  he  must  be  in  Congress  before  this 
time.  The  captain  used  to  boast  that  he  could  pack  a 
gallon  without  its  setting  him  back  any.  Sometime 
during  the  winter  of  '34  or  '35,  Col.  Kearney  ordered 
Capt.  B.  to  repair  to  Rushville,  Illinois,  distant  some 
sixty  miles,  on  recruiting  service.  The  river  was 
closed  with  ice,  but  had  the  appearance  of  breaking  up 
every  day.  There  was  no  ferry  for  conveying  horses 

103 


104  A   ROLLICKING    DRAGOON    OFFICER. 

at  Des  Moines,  but  there  was  one  ten  miles  above, 
where  a  man  by  the  name  of  Knapp  kept  a  small  store 
for  the  sale  of  dry  goods  and  whisky.  The  captain 
repaired  to  Knapp's,  and  waited  two  or  three  days 
for  the  river  either  to  freeze  harder  or  break  up  ;  on 
the  third  morning  there  was  no  change  in  the  river — 
the  captain  commenced  early,  and  by  nine  o'clock 
was  packing  about  a  gallon.  He  ordered  his  horse, 
put  his  pistols  in  the  holsters,  buckled  on  his  sword, 
mounted  his  horse,  (which  was  a  very  fine  one,  and 
devilish  fast  for  a  mile,)  braced  himself  in  the  stirrups, 
turned  his  horse's  head  for  the  river,  and  took  a  long 
look  at  it.  Without  saying  a  word  to  anybody,  he 
gave  his  horse  the  spurs,  dashed  down  the  bank,  on 
the  ice,  and  crossed  the  river  at  a  "  quarter  lick" 
speed.  Knapp  stood  thunderstruck  looking  after  him 
— lie  said  he  expected  to  see  B.  and  the  horse  disap 
pear  at  every  jump,  but  they  arrived  safe  at  the  other 
bank. 

ic  Good  Lord  !"  said  Knapp,  "  I  could  have  taken  a 
pole  and  punched  holes  in  the  ice  anywhere!" 

• "  Did  he  look  back" — I  inquired — "  when  he  reached 
the  other  side  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Knapp,  "  he  went  up  the  opposite  bank 
at  the  same  lick,  and  disappeared!" 

The  captain  arrived  safe  at  Rushville,  where  he 
remained  for  several  weeks,  and  returned  without  a 
man.  He  told  me  of  some  of  his  adventures  at  Rush 
ville.  He  went  into  his  favourite  grocery  or  drinking- 
house,  one  very  cold  morning,  and  found  a  crowd 
sitting  round  the  fire ;  so  close  were  they  wedged  in 
that  there  was  no  room  for  another  chair,  if  there  had 


He  walked  to  the  flre  and  throw  it  in — remarking,  '  Eternal!],'  -AJ  **'  my  soul 

(his  favorite  oath),  gentlemen,  if  I  don't  think  we  have  lived 

long  enough  !'  "— Page,  lu.>. 


A   ROLLICKING   DRAGOON    OFFICER.  105 

been  one  in  the  room.  No  one  moved — no  one  offered 
the  captain  a  seat.  The  fact  is,  the  captain  had  a 
way  of  making  himself  unpopular  with  such  crowds: 
he  had  an  unpleasant  way  of  using  his  fists  when  he 
got  about  a  gallon  on  board.  An  old  lady  who  lived 
near  Des  Moines,  requested  me  to  look  at  her  husband ; 
he  was  in  bed,  where  he  had  been  for  three  weeks ; 
he  was  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and  the  captain  called 
him  Chief  Justice  T.  He  said  he  and  the  captain  were 
drinking  together,  and  after  they  had  become  very 
sociable,  he  called  him  B.  without  the  captain,  and  the 
next  moment  he  was  knocked  into  the  middle  of  the 
next  three  weeks ! 

The  captain  had  been  pursuing  something  of  the 
same  practice  at  Rushville,  consequently  no  one  offered 
him  a  seat. 

The  captain  had  been  a  great  deal  about  this 
grocery,  and  knew  what  was  in  every  barrel,  box,  and 
keg  in  it.  He  took  a  good  look  at  the  crowd,  and 
finding  he  was  not  to  have  a  seat,  he  walked  behind  the 
counter,  and  picked  up  a  keg  marked  "  Dupont." 
He  walked  to  the  fire  and  threw  it  in,  remarking — 

"Eternally  my  soul,"  [his  favourite  oath,] 

"  gentlemen,  if  I  don't  think  we  have  lived  long 
enough !" 

"  Did  they  run  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Run !"  said  he — "  I  never  saw  c  ground  and  lofty 
tumbling'  before!  They  just  threw  themselves  over 
backwards,  and  all  left  the  house  on  their  all-fours, 
some  back  end  first,  and  they  went  in  that  way  clear 
across  the  street !" 

Hearing  no  explosion,  they  after  a  while  ventured 


106  A   ROLLICKING   DRAGOON    OFFICER. 

back,  and  peeped  in;  there  sat  B.,  with  a  glass  of 
something  enjoying  himself,  the  keg  standing  in  one 
corner  by  him — (the  keg  contained  madder  instead  of 
powder.)  Long  as  the  captain  remained  in  Rushville, 
he  had  the  grocery  all  to  himself. 

I  wonder  what  has  become  of  him  ?  If  he  has  not 
fatigued  himself  to  death,  packing  a  gallon  at  a  time, 
he's  in  Congress  sure. 


THE  GEORGIA  MAJOR  IN  COURT. 

BY   A   TENNESSEE   EDITOR.  . 

We  are  indebted  to  the  Pulaski  "  Courier"  for  the  incident  sub 
joined  in  relation  to  that  rival  of"  Billy  Patterson,"  the  celebra 
ted  "  Georgia  Major,"  whose  exploits  during  the  last  five  years 
have  quite  thrown  in  the  shade  the  "  deeds  of  high  emprise" 
for  which  the  far-famed  "  Col.  Pluck"  was  so  renowned. 

His  honour,  the  mayor,  was  in  the  discharge  of  his 
official  functions  on  last  Saturday  evening — the  business 
before  him  consisting  of  two  several  charges  of  assault 
and  battery ;  to  both  of  which  our  friend,  the  ubiquitous 
"  Georgia  major,"  was  the  respondent. 

"  Do  you  plead  guilty  to  the  charge  of  assaulting  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Williams  ?"  asked  the  mayor  of  the  defendant. 

"I  do;  that  is  to  say—" 

"  Then  I  fine  you  ten  dollars,"  said  the  mayor. 

"  That  is  to  say,"  continued  the  major,  "  I  plead 
guilty ;  but  if  there's  any  way  to  get  off  from  the  fine,  I 
should  like  very  much  to  do  it." 

"  Doubtless,"  observed  his  honour. 

"  I  will  make  a  statement — or,  as  you  may  say,  a 
defence — um — a-a-few  remarks." 

The  court  nodded  permission. 

"  You  see,  Williams  came  up  to  me,  and  spoke  some 
thing  to  me,  and,  said  I,  You  d — d  rascal,  pull  off  your 
hat  when  you  speak  to  me :"  said  the  major,  throwing 

107 


108  THE    GEORGIA   MAJOR   IN   COURT. 

v 

himself  into  a  military  attitude.  "  That's  enough — 
ten  dollars  and  costs,"  said  his  honour.  The  major 
bowed  gracefully. 

Proceeding  now  to  the  second  charge,  his  honour 
asked  the  defendant  if  he  would  plead  guilty  again. 
Not  he !  He  would  make  a  statement  though,  in  rela 
tion,  or  in  respect  to,  or  regarding,  the  manner  of  the 
second  fight. 

"  I  was  in  the  person's  store  who  fought  me,  search 
ing  for  one  of  the  silver  eyes  which  had  dropped  out  of 
my  walking  cane  in  the  previous  fight,  when  that  person 
ordered  me  out.  Sir,  said  I,  you  must  talk  softly — 
derrfd  softly  when  you  address  me,  sir.  Upon  this,  that 
person  struck  me  with  a  skillet,  sir — an  iron  skillet,  sir 
— in  the  face."  Here  the  major  pointed  to  his  face, 
the  nasal  feature  of  which  bore  some  purplish  streaks 
that  beautifully  varied  its  usual  rich  ruby.  "And  then, 
sir,  I  fell — staggered  and  fell,  as  I  returned  the  blow 
with  my  cane.  Immediately  a  crowd  jumped  upon  me, 
and  beat  me  'til  they  were  pulled  off— they  didn't  whip 
me,  though  ;  that  ca-n't  be  done !"  Here  he  stopped 
and  looked  round — (by  the  by  we  thought  we  heard 
the  major  "  holler.") 

A  witness  being  called  and  examined,  corroborated 
the  major's  statement,  except  as  to  the  crowd's  having 
jumped  upon  him.  No  one  interfered  with  the  combat 
ants.  The  witness  stated,  in  addition,  that  the  major 
had  contrived  to  hide  his  head  under  the  side  of  a  hogs 
head,  so  as  to  protect  it  very  effectually. 

The  major  cross-examined. 

"  You  say  nobody  touched  me  but  that  man  ?"  point 
ing  to  his  antagonist. 


THE  GEORGIA  MAJOR  IN  COURT.        109 

"Nobody." 

"  Wasn't  the  crowd  all  against  me  ?"  again  asked  the 
hero. 

"  The  crowd  thought  you  deserved  a  whipping,  for 
striking  an  inoffensive  man — a  minister  of  the  gospel," 
replied  the  witness  very  quietly. 

"  Didn't  they  all  tell  that  man  to  whip  me  well?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  didn't  he— that  is—" 

"  Didn't  he  do  it,  you  mean  to  ask  ?  Yes  he  did, 
nicely." 

The  major  now  "  pulled  up."  He  had  been  deceived ; 
his  imagination  had  led  him  into  error ;  completely 
carried  him  off;  had  transformed  an  individual  not  over 
the  weight  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  into  a  large 
crowd ;  or  at  least  had  furnished  him  with  Briarean  fa 
cilities  for  a  "rough  and  tumble  scrummage." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  mayor,  "  as  I  have  already 
fined  you  ten  dollars,  and  as  it  seems  in  this  case  you 
got  a  pretty  good  whipping,  I  reckon  I  must  discharge 
you  as  to  this." 

"Whipping?"  ejaculated  the  major,  becoming  posi 
tively  tragic  in  his  air ;  "  whipping !  is  that  a  part  of 
your  sentence — that  I  got  whipped  ?  Sir,  I'd  rather  be 
fined  five  hundred  dollars  than  have  that  entered  on  the 
record ;  it  wasn't  done !  I,  sir,  have  never  been  whip 
ped — Jlngels  couldn't  whip  me!"  And  the  major 
loomed  majestically  about  the  room. 

"  If  it  ain't  been  done,  it  kin  be  done,"  said  somebody 
in  the  crowd — whereupon  our  friend  collapsed  into  his 
original  dimensions,  in  the  folding  of  a  peacock's  tail ; 
and  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  brow,  quietly  retired , 


UNCLE  BILLY  BROWN-" GLORIOUS!" 

BY  "RAMBLER,"  OF  THE  N.  o.  "PICAYUNE." 

Whether  "  Rambler"  is  the  veritable  «« Ex  Santa  Fe  Prisonei" 
himself,  or  the  senior  of  the  editorial  brotherhood  who  stand 
sponsors  for  the  New  Orleans  "  Picayune" — a  sort  of  "  child 
of  thirty-six  fathers" — we  cannot  undertake  to  decide;  but 
the  story  of  "  Uncle  Billy  Brown"  is  "  glorious,"  and  worthy 
of  either  of  them.  Both  Lumsden  and  Kendall  have  left 
their  editorial  sanctum  for  "  the  halls  of  the  Montezumas," 
where  each,  we  are  glad  to  learn,  has  greatly  distinguished 
himself. 


"  Oh,  what  has  caused  this  great  commotion !" 

Political  Song  of  '40. 

TAKE  a  large  stick — a  fence-rail  for  instance — and 
rake  it  violently  down  a  Venetian  window-blind,  or  the 
side  of  a  weather-boarded  house,  and  you  are  very  apt 
to  make  some  noise,  especially  of  a  still  evening. 

A  correspondent  of  ours,  "  Rambler,"  as  he  signs 
himself,  says  that  he  had  just  risen  from  the  supper 

table  of  the  tavern  in  the  little  village  of  G »,  in  the 

interior  of  Mississippi,  one  hot  evening  last  summer, 
and  was  passing  out  to  the  front  gallery  to  rest  himself 
after  a  long  day's  ride,  when  suddenly  he  heard  a 
tremendous  racket  as  of  some  one  raking  a  fence-rail 
110 


UNCLE    BILLY   BROWN.  Ill 

down  the  side  of  a  weather-boarded  house,  each  rake 
followed  by  a  shout  of  "glorious!  glorious!"  from  a 
pair  of  lungs  of  ten  trombone  power.  Something  extra 
was  "  going  on,"  that  was  certain,  and  tired  as  he  was, 
our  friend  at  once  hobbled  off  towards  the  point  whence 
the  unwonted  sounds  proceeded. 

He  soon  arrived  at  a  door  over  which  a  light  hung, 
and  round  which  a  score  of  little  and  big  "  niggers" 
were  assembled.  u  What's  the  fun  here  ?"  was  a 
question  answered  by  an  individual  standing  in  the 
door,  who  said  it  was  "  a  theatre."  While  paying  for 
his  ticket,  another  rake  from  the  interior,  and  another 
"  glorious !"  came  upon  our  friend's  ear,  accompanied  this 
time  by  a  loud  shout  as  of  a  large  political  multitude  as 
sembled.  He  was  soon  inside  the  room,  a  large  and  long 
one,  two-thirds  of  which  was  occupied  by  the  audience 
and  the  remainder  by  the  stage,  leaving  a  small  space 
between.  It  was  crowded  too — the  benches  and  chairs 
all  full — while  upon  the  floor  was  seated,  his  arms 
locked  around  his  knees  and  his  chin  nestled  closely  on 
his  wrists,  Uncle  Billy  Brown,  two-thirds  inebriated  and 
the  other  third  fast  asleep. 

On  one  side  of  the  room,  and  near  the  row  of  candles 
which  served  for  foot-lights,  sat  "  the  band,"  consisting 
of  a  large  black  fellow  and  no  more,  in  a  very  high  chair, 
a  violin  in  his  hands  and  a  brass  drum  between  his  legs. 
After  repeated  calls  for  "  music,"  he  finally  struck  ug 
"Hey,  Jim  along,"  playing  his  fiddle  in  the  ordinary  way, 
and  with  the  true  corn-field  abandon^  and  at  the  same 
time  beating  a  rumbling  accompaniment  with  his  knees 
upon  the  drum.  This  over,  the  bell — borrowed  from  the 
tavern  after  it  rung  the  boarders  in  to  supper — now  gave 


112  UNCLE    BILLY   BROWN. 

signal  for  the  curtain  to  rise.  "  Pizarro,  or  the  Death  of 
Rolla,"  got  up  by  a  Thespian  corps  of  the  town,  was  to 
be  the  first  performance.  The  Peruvian  appeared,  and 
the  applause  was  so  violent  that  the  young  amateur  who 
personated  the  character  bowed.  The  applause  con 
tinued,  and  he  bowed  lower.  Another  round,  and  he 
bowed  so  low  that  his  tights  gave  way.  A  perfect  earth 
quake  of  applause  followed  close  upon  the  heel  of  this 
disaster,  accompanied  by  a  rake  from  the  man  with  the 
fence-rail — it  was  a  man  with  a  sure-enough  fence-rail — 
and  Rolla  backed  out  and  hauled  off  to  repair  damages 
while  the  curtain  was  falling. 

The  affair  so  tickled  the  individual  with  the  fence- 
rail  that  nothing  could  stop  him.  He  raked  the  sides 
of  the  house,  and  then  shouted  "  glorious !"  and  kept  it 
up  till  his  friends  gathered  round  and  begged  him  to 
desist.  But  his  steam  was  up,  and  the  only  way  he 
could  keep  from  bursting  was  to  rail  and  shout  with  all 
his  might.  A  compromise  was  finally  made  with  him, 
he  agreeing  if  they  would  allow  him  to  "  make  a  short 
exhort"  at  the  door,  and  "  sing  a  hymn,"  he  would  not 
use  his  rail  again  unless  something  extra  turned  up. 

Silence  having  been  restored,  the  play  was  progress 
ing  towards  a  termination,  when  another  interruption 
occurred.  In  one  of  the  most  affecting  scenes,  and 
while  the  audience  sat  motionless,  speechless,  and 
apparently  breathless,  a  very  large  gentleman  from  the 
country  rose  in  his  seat,  leaned  himself  forward,  and 
fixed  his  gaze  intently  on  one  of  the  performers.  Sud 
denly  he  threw  out  his  arms,  exclaiming  "  Gooa  God ! 
aint  that  McDonald  ?"  Away  the  audience  went  in 
perfect  convulsions  of  laughter,  down  came  the  fence- 


"Uncle  Billy  Brown  'Glorious'  at  a  country  theatre  in  Mi 


•ft 


UNCLE   BILLY   BROWN.  113 

rail  against  the  blinds  with  a  rake  that  made  all  rattle 
again,  and  high  above  the  din  arose  the  shout  of 
"  glorious  /"  The  fat  man  from  the  country  heeded 
not  the  noise  and  commotion  around  him,  but  kept  his 
eye  fixed  on  the  half-stupified  performer.  "  Down  in 
front!"  came  from  those  on  the  back  seats,  but  the  fat 
man  heard  not  the  summons.  He  raised  his  open  hand 
over  his  eyes  to  obtain  a  closer  sight,  and  bent  himself 
still  farther  forward.  "  Why,  no  it  aint,"  ejaculated 
he,  half  in  doubt — "  why,  yes  it  is" — and  then  straight 
ening  himself,  and  slapping  his  right  hand  violently  in 
his  open  left,  he  finished  with  "  D — n  me  if  it  isn't 
McDonald  sure  enough."  If  there  had  been  a  din 
before,  there  was  a  perfect  earthquake  of  noise  now. 
The  old  fence-rail  came  down  on  the  weather-boarding 
with  a  rake  that  started  the  nails,  the  shout  of  "glo 
rious  /"  appeared  louder  from  its  very  hoarseness,  every 
pair  of  feet  was  stamping — every  pair  of  hands  was 
clapping,  every  throat  was  open  and  yelling,  while  out 
side  the  theatre  the  horses  tied  to  the  fences  broke  their 
bridles,  and  were  stampeding  and  cavorting  about  amid 
shouts  of  "  Stop  him !"  "  Whoa  !"  "  Hold  my  critter, 
there !"  and  similar  ejaculations.  Defter  had  there  been 

such  an  uproar  in  the  little  village  of  G . 

Order  was  finally  restored,  but  only  until  sheer  ex 
haustion  left  the  audience  unable  to  make  further  noisy 
demonstrations ;  and  now  the  part  enacted  by  the  fat 
gentleman  from  the  country  was  explained,  it  seemed 
that  the  Thespian's  name  who  had  attracted  his  atten 
tion  was  really  McDonald.  Some  four  months  previous 
he  had  been  reported  dead  to  the  fat  gentleman,  and  as 
the  report  had  never  been  contradicted,  his  bewilder- 


114  UNCLE   BILLY   BROWN. 

ment  at  seeing  his  quondam  acquaintance,  for  he  had 
finally  made  him  out  through  all  his  paint,  feathers,  and 
stage  trappings,  led  him  to  depart  a  shade  from  the 
ordinary  etiquette  established  among  theatrical  audi 
ences.  He  sat  down,  and  once  more  the  play  com 
menced.  All  was  hushed — a  perfect  quiet  reigned — 
when  suddenly  it  struck  the  fat  man  that  he  had  made 
himself  supremely  ridiculous  by  the  part  he  had  played 
a  few  moments  before.  No  sooner  had  this  fancy  fairly 
taken  foothold  in  his  mind  than,  in  the  very  midst  of 
a  silence  which  would  have  become  a  graveyard  at 
midnight,  he  laid  himself  back  in  his  seat,  raised  both 
his  hands  above  his  head,  and  broke  out  with  a  "  Ha ! 
ha !  ha !"  that  might  have  been  heard  a  mile.  Again 
the  audience  was  thrown  into  convulsions,  again  the 
fence-rail  came  rattling  down  the  sides  of  the  house, 
again  the  shout  of  "glorious  /"  rose  above  the  din,  and 
as  if  this  was  not  enough,  the  actors  forgot  Sheridan's 
poetry  and  fairly  screamed  in  chorus- — the  moody  and 
relentless  Pizarro  even  taking  a  part,  and  laughing  until 
the  perspiration  wore  furrows  through  the  red  and  black 
ferocity  which  rouge  and  burnt  cork  had  given  his 
countenance.  It  was  not  until  exhaustion  had  once 
more  got  the  mastery  that  order  was  restored,  and  the 
performance  now  went  on  with  little  interruption  until 
"  Pizarro"  ended  with  the  "  Death  of  Holla." 

All  this  while,  notwithstanding  the  din,  Uncle  Billy 
Brown  had  continued  to  snooze  upon  the  floor ;  nor  did 
the  bustle  attendant  upon  the  fall  of  the  curtain  serve 
to  raise  him.  The  afterpiece  of  the  "  Mock  Doctor" 
commenced,  yet  Uncle  Billy  was  perfectly  unconscious 
of  what  was  going  on  around  him.  He  was  well 


UNCLE   BILLY    BROWN.  115 

known  as  the  captain  of  a  "land  packet"7 — in  plain 
terms,  the  driver  of  an  ox-team  which  plied  between 
G and  the  river  towns — and  but  that  he  occa 
sionally  muttered  "Gee,"  "Whoa,"  and  the  like, 
as  in  his  dreams  he  imagined  himself  along  with  his 
team,  no  sounds  escaped  him.  As  the  farce  advanced, 
he  gave  a  species  of  groan — a  forerunner  of  returning 
consciousness — yet  still  he  did  not  raise  his  head.  The 
sham  doctor  was  now  proceeding  to  administer  one  of 
his  nostrums  to  a  patient,  but  the  latter  being  backward 
he  endeavoured  to  persuade  him.  Uncle  Billy  groaned 
again,  and  partially  raised  his  head.  The  doctor  con 
tinued  his  endeavours  to  force  his  drugs  down  his 
patient's  throat :  Uncle  Billy  gave  still  another  groan, 
and  opened  his  eyes.  He  had  half-recognised  the  voice 
of  the  doctor,  who  was  an  old  enemy  of  his,  and  en 
tirely  forgetting  where  he  was,  and  imagining  the  Thes 
pian  endeavouring  to  force  the  vile  mixture  down  his 

throat,  he  broke  out  with,  "  No — you — don't !    To 

with  your  pills ;  take  'em  yourself,  d — n  you,  I  don't 
like  you,  no  how!" 

Here  was  fresh  and  most  abundant  cause  of  uproar, 
and  a  new  episode  in  the  performance  was  introduced. 
The  manager  came  forward  and  ordered  that  Uncle 
Billy  be  turned  out — Uncle  Billy  drew  a  bowie  and  in 
timated  a  desire  to  see  the  chap  willing  to  undertake  the 
job.  An  assistant  about  the  theatre  grappled  him,  and 
they  were  soon  upon  the  floor  engaged  in  a  regular 
rough-and-tumble  fight.  Two-thirds  of  the  foot-lights 
were  at  once  kicked  over,  while  shouts  of  "  Fair  play," 
"  Turn  'em  out,"  "  Give  him  goss,"  "  No  gouging," 
were  heard  on  all  sides.  The  ladies  scrambled  and 


116  UNCLE   BILLY   BROWN. 

scampered  out,  the  actors  mingled  with  the  audience, 
the  fat  gentleman  laughed  louder  than  ever,  Uncle  Billy 
tusseled  and  swore,  but  high  above  the  laughing,  cursing, 
and  swearing,  arose  the  efforts  of  the  rail-man.  He 
had  started  off  the  boards  OK  one  side  of  the  room,  but 
having  found  a  fresh  spot  he  was  raking  away  with 
all  his  might  to  the  accompaniment  of  "  glorious ! 
plorious  /" 

Tim  «nded  a  theatrical  performance  in  Mississippi. 
Our  correspondent  says  that  he  dug  his  way  out  of  the 
house  and  made  the  best  speed  he  could  to  the  tavern 
and  to  bed  ;  but  the  scenes  of  the  evening  haunted  him 
in  his  dreams,  and  several  times  he  awroke  with  his 
hands  clasped  to  his  ears  to  shut  out  the  dreadful 
raking  of  the  "  glorious"  fellow  with  the  fence-rail. 


OLD  TUTTLE'S  LAST  QUARTER  RACE. 

BY  "  BUCKEYE,"  OF  OHIO. 

The  story  annexed  is  the  first  attempt  at  authorship  of  a  new 
Ohio  correspondent  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times."  He  will 
be  heard  of  again.  We  should  premise  that  the  circumstances 
described  actually  occurred  in  June  last. 

A  FEW  weeks  since,  Sol.  Lauflin  matched  his  bay 
four  year  old  colt  by  Bacchus  vs.  Hugh's  bay  mare  by 
Bacchus,  also  four  years  old,  to  run  a  quarter,  in  the  lane 
near  this  place,  for  a  C  speck.  As  the  colt  was  known 
to  be  a  sharp  one,  and  his  owner  "  one  of  the  b'hoys" 
for  a  quarter  race,  and  that  he  also  had  the  assistance  of 
"  Old  Tuttle,"  (who  will  figure  presently,)  he  had  the 
call  in  the  betting  at  six  to  four,  until  the  day  before  the 
race,  when  the  mare  made  her  appearance,  looking  every 
inch  a  Bacchus,  and  fine  as  a  star ;  and  the  owners  of 
the  old  horse  making  a  demonstration  in  her  favour,  the 
odds  fell  off,  and  numerous  small  sums  were  laid  out  at 
evens,  up  to  the  time  of  the  race. 

On  the  mounting  of  the  riders,  it  appeared  that  the 
colt  had  the  advantage  in  training  or  management,  as 
the  mare  was  very  restive,  and  finally  broke  from  her 
starter,  and  run  like  a  scared  dog,  going  quite  through 
before  her  rider  could  take  her  up.  Here  the  friends  of 
the  colt  again  rallied,  and  some  money  was  laid  out  at 
five  to  four,  p.  p.,  but  when  it  was  known  that  the  mare 
was  not  hurt  and  would  start  again,  the  odds  fell  off,  and 
even  was  again  the  order  of  the  day. 

H  117 


118          OLD  TUTTLE'S  LAST  QUARTER  RACE. 

The  mare  was  soon  at  her  post  again,  and  this  time 
they  got  off,  the  mare  a  little  in  the  van,  which  she 
maintains  throughout,  and  is  declared  a  winner  by  five 
feet !  Well,  there !  if  you  ever  heard  a  small  crowd 
shout,  you  know  what  was  done  then — and  if  knowing 
ones  were  ever  struck  speechless,  them's  they  ! 

Prior  to  the  main  race,  or,  as  the  play-bills  have  it, 
"previous  to  which,"  was  acted  the  farce  of  "  Dog  eat 
Dog,"  or  "  The  boys"  vs.  "  Old  Tuttle."  In  order  to 
get  the  cream  of  this,  you  must  know  Old  Tuttle — and 
as  I  am  utterly  unable  to  do  him  justice  in  a  description, 
I'll  squat,  and  let  Hooker  do  it. 

Look  at  the  picture  of  "  Simon  Suggs,"  and  you'll 
see  Old  T.  physically ;  in  the  trial  scene  you  find  him 
intellectually,  and  in  the  camp-meeting  scene,  morally. 
Were  it  not  that  Old  T.  never  "samples"  too  much 
when  on  business,  and  fights  the  "  hoss  b'hoys"  instead 
of  the  "  Tiger,"  I  should  say  they  were  one  and  the 
same  person.  As  a  matter  of  course,  a  quarter  race 
never  goes  off  without  his  being  thar — and  he  never 
attends  without  doing  some  business  !  So  on  Thursday 
he  makes  his  appearance  on  the  track,  on  a  bay  gelding, 
(with  white  hind  feet,)  which  he  calls  "  Indian  Dick," 
and  "  allows  he's  as  good  a  scrub  as  there'll  be  on  the 
ground!"  As  Old  T.  is  known,  and  Dick  has  been 
heard  of,  the  boys  are  rather  shy — but  one  of  them 
thinks  he's  got  a  scrub  that's  "  some  pumpkins!"  and 
would  like  to  know,  without  too  much  cost,  how  fai 
Dick  can  beat  him  ;  he  therefore  proposes  to  run  them 
three  hundred  yards,  for  "  sucks  all  round."  Old  T. 
understands  the  game,  and  says,  "  No,  I  don't  want  yer 
to  treat  this  crowd,  but  I'll  run  with  yer,  just  to  show  you 


OLD  TUTTLE'S  LAST  QUARTER  RACE.          119 

ye?  hoss  can't  run  !"  This  was  what  H.  wanted,  as  he 
thought  fie  could  tell  the  speed  of  a  horse,  even  though  Old 
T.  did  ride  him  ;  so  back  they  go  to  the  score,  and  are  off 
— with  (as  might  be  expected)  H.  ahead,  and  Old  T.  in 
the  rear,  whipping  and  spurring  like  mad,  and  letting 
his  horse  go  just  fast  enough  to  put  H.'s  at  about  the  top 
of  his  speed — but  he  can't  quite  come  it — "  H.'s  horse 
is  too  smart,  and  can  beat  him  every  inch  of  the  road." 
So  says  H.,  and  most  of  the  crowd  are  of  the  same 
opinion. 

Old  T.  says  he  believes  he  can  beat  H.  Saturday,  as 
"  Dick's  shoes  are  loose,  and  heavy,  and  he  can't  run 
in  'em." 

There  was  nothing  more  said  about  it  till  old  Tut. 
made  his  appearance  next  morning,  when  the  boys  were 
all  after  him  with  "  sharp  sticks"  and  "  hot  bricks" — 
one  wanted  to  bet  him  a  horse  on  H.'s  colt  vs.  his  In 
dian  Dick — another  a  V.,  another  an  X.,  and  so  on. 

"  Hold  yer  hosses,  b'hoys !  Don't  all  be  after  the 
old  man  at  wunst.  Wait  a  while  and  he'll  commerdate 
yer!  He's  an  old  man,  and  b'lieves  he 'knows  mor'ri 
all  on  yer ; — but  he  don't  want  all  your  money  at  wunst. 
He  wants  to  be  onabel  with  yer,  so  he  can  cum  agin." 

This  of  course  didn't  set  them  back  any,  as  they 
thought  the  old  man  was  scary,  and  they  were  after  him 
the  faster.  Some  of  the  more  wary  cautioned  them  to 
look  out,  but  they  didn't  want  no  caution — they  knew 
what  they  was  about !  They  could  beat  Old  Tuttle  I  and 
they  were  going  to  "  do  the  State  some  service"  by 
skinning  him.  They'd  make  the  "  old  cuss"  poor  afore 
they  left  him ! 

He  took  it  all  very  coolly,  advised  some  of  them  to 


120          OLD  TUTTLE'S  LAST  QUARTER  RACE. 

save  their  money  for  next  time.  He  was  an  old  man, 
and  b'lieved  he  knew  more'ri  all  on  'em.  His  father 
didn't  work  for  nothin*  sixty-five  years  ago  !  But  the  boys 
said  that  was  all  gas,  to  scare  them  off;  but  'twouldn't 
work !  The  old  cuss  had  got  to  be  skinned  or  back 
out. 

The  result  was,  they  got  up  a  horse  and  fifty  dollars 
in  money  a  side,  to  run  on  Saturday  at  two  o'clock, 
each  one  to  start  and  ride  his  own  horse,  judge  tops 
and  bottoms — the  winning  horse  take  the  cakes — and 
no  back  out !  Either  party  refusing  to  run  forfeits  the 
whole  stakes. 

Things  went  on  smooth  that  day — some  thinking  Old 
T.  was  playing  some  game  on  the  boys,  but  what  the 
d — 1  it  was,  no  one  could  tell.  However,  before  night 
it  was  known  there  was  a  secret  among  the  boys.  They 
knew  the  speed  of  Dick,  and  knew  they  could  slay  him ; 
but  there  mustn't  any  thing  be  said  about  it,  as  when 
they  got  the  old  man  on  the  track  and  right,  they  were 
going  into  him  the  whole  amount  of  his  fixings.  They'd 

caught  the  old  man  napping  once.  They'd  got  a 

sight  faster  horse  than  he  thought  for — and  now  they 
were  going  to  pay  off  old  scores. 

Two  o'clock  came,  and  found  Old  T.  on  the  spot, 
leading  Dick  round,  and  telling  the  boys  they'd  be  sur 
prised  when  they  see  Dick  run  his  best — at  the  same  time 
"  doing  what  business  offered" — but  somehow  the  boys 
appeared  a  little  scary.  Old  T.  was  "  on  hand"  for 
every  offer,  and  no  mistake,  and  'twas  known  he  never 
bet  liberally,  unless  he  "  had  a  sure  thing,"  so  that  the 
betting  soon  began  to  lag,  and  the  old  man  had  the  call, 
but  no  takers.  Finally  the  old  man  said,  "  I've  got  a 


OLD  TUTTLE'S  LAST  QUARTER  RACE.          121 

little  more  money,  b'hoys,  and  I  wouldn't  mind  giving 
you  a  chance  at  two  to  one  for  it."  But  this  set  them  clar 
back — no  one  dare  bite.  There  not  appearing  any  more 
chance  for  investment,  the  old  man  stripped  off  his  hat, 
coat,  vest  and  boots,  tied  a  red  cotton  bandanna  around 
his  head,  (as  an  old  man  only  can  tie  it,)  then  pulls  off 
the  clothes  and  saddle  from  Dick,  and  mounts,  bare 
back,  declaring  himself  ready. 

H.  mounted,  and  the  word  was  given  to  "  clear  the 
track!"  Then  Old  T.  says,  "  Are  yer  ready?"  "Yes." 
"  Go  long,  then !"  And  over  the  score  they  go,  H.  a 
length  ahead.  But,  oh!  Jeminy!  see  Dick  run!  Before 
you  could  turn  round  twice,  the  ends  of  Old  T.'s  ban 
danna  were  pointing  out  the  road  for  H.,  and  at  the  out 
come  Dick  was  one,  H.  nowhere ! 

Anybody  that  has  seen  a  "  quarter-horse"  run  by  a 
"  dunghill"  knows  how  this  was — no  one  else  can  ap 
preciate  it.  The  thing  was  out.  Old  T.  really  knew 
more  than  all  of  them,  sure  enough — but  what  was  the 

secret,  and  how  in could  those  in  the  secret  be  so 

stuck  ?  That's  the  idea. 

The  secret  was,  "  THE  BOYS"  STOLE  OLD  TUTTLE'S 
HORSE  on  Thursday  night,  and  run  him  with  H.'s  horse, 
and  beat  him  easy  !  And  the  way  they  were  stuck  was 
this :  the  old  man,  supposing  they  would  steal  his  horse 
that  night,  and  run  him,  had  put  Dick's  clothes  on  an 
other  horse  of  the  same  colour  and  marks,  and  about  the 
same  size,  and  put  him  in  Dick's  stall,  starting  a  shoe, 
so  that  if  they  run  him  they  would  lose  it,  and  he  should 
know  they  had  taken  the  bait  good.  In  the  morning  the 
shoe  was  gone ! 


BILL  DEAN,  THE  TEXAN  EANGER. 

BY  GEO.  W.  KENDALL,  ESQ.  OF  THE  N.  O.  PICAYUNE. 

In  a  late  letter  from  the  "  seat  of  war"  in  Mexico,  Kendall  fur 
nishes  some  capital  sketches  of  the  jokers  in  the  army,  from 
which  we  quote  the  following: — 

RARE  wags  maybe  found  among  the  Texas  Volunteers, 
yet  the  funniest  fellow  of  all  is  a  happy-go-lucky  chap 
named  Bill  Dean,  one  of  Chevallier's  spy  company,  and 
said  to  be  one  of  the  best "  seven-up"  players  in  all  Texas. 
While  at  Corpus  Christi,  a  lot  of  us  were  sitting  out  on 
the  stoop  of  the  Kinney  House,  early  one  morning,  when 
along  came  Bill  Dean.  He  did  not  know  a  single  soul 
in  the  crowd,  although  he  knew  we  were  all  bound  for 
the  Rio  Grande  ;  yet  the  fact  that  the  regular  formalities 
of  an  introduction  had  not  been  gone  through  with,  did 
not  prevent  his  stopping  short  in  his  walk  and  accosting 
us.  His  speech,  or  harangue,  or  whatever  it  may  be 
termed,  will  lose  much  in  the  telling,  yet  I  will  endeavour 
to  put  it  upon  paper  in  as  good  shape  as  possible. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  with  a  knowing  leer  of  the  eye  : 
"  oh,  yes^  all  going  down  among  the  robbers  on  the  Rio 
Grande,  are  you?  Fine  times  youHl  have,  over  the 
left.  I've  been  there  myself,  and  done  what  a  great 
many  of  you  won't  do — I  come  back  :  but  if  I  did'nt 
see  nateral  h — 11, — in  August  at  that, — I  am  a  teapot. 
Lived  eight  days  on  one  poor  hawk  and  three  black* 
122 


BILL  DEAN,  THE  TEXAN  RANGER.         123 

berries — couldn't  kill  a  prairie  rat  on  the  whole  route  to 
save  us  from  starvation.  The  ninth  day  come,  and  we 
struck  a  small  streak  of  good  luck — a  horse  give  out  and 
broke  down,  plumb  out  in  the  centre  of  an  open  prairie 
— not  a  stick  big  enough  to  tickle  a  rattlesnake  with, 
let  alone  killing  him.  Just  had  time  to  save  the  critter 
by  shootin'  him,  and  that  was  all,  for  in  three  minutes 
longer  he'd  have  died  a  nateral  death.  It  didn't  take 
us  long  to  butcher  him,  nor  to  cut  off  some  chunks  of 
meat  and  stick  'em  on  our  ramrods;  but  the  cookiri7 
was  another  matter.  I  piled  up  a  heap  of  prairie  grass, 
for  it  was  high  and  dry,  and  sot  it  on  fire  ;  but  it  flashed 
up  like  powder,  and  went  out  as  quick.  But — " 

c<  But,"  put  in  one  of  his  hearers,  "  but  how  did  you 
cook  your  horse-meat  after  that?" 

"How?" 

"Yes,  how?" 

"  Why,  the  fire  caught  the  high  grass  close  by,  and 
the  wind  carried  the  flames  streakin'  across  the  prairie. 
I  followed  up  the  fire,  holding  my  chunk  of  meat  directly 
over  the  blaze,  and  the  way  we  went  it  was  a  caution 
to  any  thing  short  of  locomotive  doin's.  Once  in  a  while 
a  little  flurry  of  wind  would  come  along,  and  the  fire 
would  get  a  few  yards  the  start ;  but  I'd  brush  upon 
her,  lap  her  with  my  chunk,  and  then  we'd  have  it 
again,  nip  and  chuck.  You  never  seed  such  a  tight 
race — it  was  beautiful." 

"  Very,  we've  no  doubt,"  ejaculated  one  of  the 
listeners,  interrupting  the  mad  wag  just  in  season  to 
give  him  r.  little  breath  :  "  but  did  you  cook  your  meat 
in  the  end  ?" 

"Not  bad  I   did'nt.     I  chased   that  d d  fire  a 


124  BILL    DEAN. 

mile  and  a  half,  the  almighties!  hardest  race  you  ever 
heer'd  tell  on,  and  never  give  it  up  until  I  run  her  right 
plump  into  a  wet  marsh :  there  the  fire  and  chunk  of 
horse-meat  came  out  even — a  dead  heat,  especially  the 
meat." 

"But  wasn't  it  cooked?"  put  in  another  one  of  the 
listeners. 

"  Cooked ! — no ! — just  crusted  over  a  little.  You 
don't  cook  broken-down  horse-flesh  very  easy,  no  how; 
but  when  it  comes  to  chasing  up  a  prairie  fire  with  a 
chunk  of  it,  I  don't  know  which  is  the  toughest,  the 
meat  or  the  job.  You'd  have  laughed  to  split  yourself 
to  have  seen  me  in  that  race — to  see  the  fire  leave  me 
at  times  and  then  to  see  me  brushin'  up  on  her  agin, 
humpin'  and  movin'  myself  as  though  I  was  runnin 
agin'  some  of  those  big  ten  mile  an  hour  Gildersleeves 
in  the  old  States.  But  I'm  a  goin  over  to  Jack  Haynes's 
to  get  a  cocktail  and  some  breakfast — I'll  see  you  all 
down  among  the  robbers  on  the  Rio  Grande." 


THE  STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIN  WHO  WAS 
AVERSE  TO  KACING. 


One  of  the  most  popular  correspondents  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the 
Times"  is  "The  Young  'Un" — the  nomme  de  plume  of  a 
young  gentleman  who  has  lately  become  a  resident  of  Phila 
delphia.  We  are  not  at  liberty  to  disclose  his  name,  but  he 
may  be  seen  in  Chestnut  street  any  fine  day. 

EARLY  in  the  spring  of  the  present  year,  a  magnifi 
cent  new  steamer  was  launched  upon  the  Ohio  river, 
and  shortly  afterward  made  her  appearance  at  the  Levee, 
opposite  the  flourishing  city  of  Cincinnati.  Gilt-edged 
covers,  enveloping  the  captain's  "  respects,"  accom 
panied  with  invitations  to  "  see  her  through,"  upon  her 
first  trip  down  the  river,  were  forwarded  to  the  editorial 
corps  in  that  vicinity ;  the  chalked  hats  were  "nume 
rous"  on  the  occasion.  It  was  a  grand  affair,  this  debut 
of  a  floating  palace,  which  has  since  maintained  her 
repute  untarnished  as  the  "  crack  boat;"^#r  excellence, 
upon  the  Western  waters.  Your  humble  servant  was 
among  the  "  invited  guests" — and  a  nice  time  he  had 
of  it! 

I  found  myself  on  board  this  beautiful  craft  in  tf  close 
communion"  with  a  score  of  unquestionable  "beauties." 
The  company  proved  to  be  a  heterogeneous  conglome 
ration  of  character — made  up  of  editors,  lawyers,  auc- 


126     THE    CAP7AIN    WHO    WAS    AVERSE    TO    RACING. 

tioneers,  indescribables,  and  "fancies" — with  a  sprink 
ling  of  "  none-such's."  There  was  a  stray  parson,  too, 
in  the  crowd — but  as  his  leisure  time  "  between  meals" 
was  spent  in  trading  horses,  we  dispensed  with  his 
"  grace  before  meals." 

We  left  our  moorings  an  hour  before  sunset,  upon  a 
clear  cold  afternoon,  and  passed  rapidly  down  stream 
for  a  considerable  distance,  without  experiencing  any 
out-of-the-way  occurrence.  The  "  sons  of  temperance," 
and  the  parson  aforesaid,  amused  themselves  over  a 
smoking  whisky  toddy — the  "  boys"  were  relieving 
each  other  of  their  superfluous  dimes  and  quarters  at 
euchre,  when  a  tall  gentleman,  who  was  "  some,"  (when 
he  was  sober,)  stepped  suddenly  into  the  cabin,  and 
imparted  the  information  that  a  well-known  "  fast  boat" 
had  just  hove  in  sight,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Kentucky 
river.  The  cards  were  u  dropt"  instanter — the  punches 
disappeared — and  the  "  mourners"  were  soon  distri 
buted  in  knots  upon  the  promenade  deck,  to  watch  the 
progress  of  events. 

Our  "  bully"  boat  sped  away  like  a  bird,  however, 
and  the  craft  behind  gave  us  early  evidence  that  she 
should  offer  no  child's  play.  The  "  fat  was  in  the 
fire"  at  once — a  huge  column  of  black  smoke  curled 
up  in  the  clear  atmosphere — an  extra  turn  or  two  was 
visible  upon  our  own  boat,  and  away  we  went!  A 
good  deal  of  excitement  existed  among  the  party,  as 
the  rival  steamer  was  clearly  gaining  upon  us.  A  craft 
like  ours,  with  such  a  company,  and  such  a  captain, 
musn't  be  beaten. 

As  the  boat  behind  us  fell  in  under  our  stern,  and  we 
could  ct  count  her  passengers,"  a  sort  of  impression 


THE    CAPTAIN    WHO    WAS   AVERSE    TO    RACING.      127 

came  over  us,  that,  by  some  mistake,  we  had  got  npon 
the  wrong  boat!  At  least,  such  was  the  expressed 
opinion  of  the  parson,  as  he  threatened  to  "  go  down 
stairs"  and  take  another  drink.  Our  captain  was  a 
noble  fellow — he  paced  the  deck  quietly,  with  a  con 
stant  eye  to  wind'ard ;  but  he  said  nothing.  A  bevy 
of  the  mourners  stepped  up  to  him,  with 

"  What  speed,  cap'n  ?" 

"  Fair,  gentlemen  ;  I  may  say  very  fair." 

"  Smart  craft,  that,  behind,"  ventured  one. 

"Very,"  responded  the  captain,  calmly,  as  he  placed 
his  hand  upon  a  small  brass  knob  at  the  back  of  the 
pilot  house.  This  movement  was  responded  to  by  the 
faiht  jingling  of  a  bell  below,  followed  immediately  by 
a  rush  of  cinders  from  the  smoke-pipes,  and  an  improved 
action  of  the  paddles. 

"  Now  we  more  again." 

"  Some,"  was  the  response,  and  a  momentary  tremor 
pervaded  the  boat  as  she  "  slid  along"  right  smartly. 

But  tht  craft  in  our  rear  moved  like  our  shadow  on 
the  calm  waters,  and  as  we  shot  down  the  river,  it 
seemed  as  if  we  had  her  "  in  tow,"  so  calmly  and  uni 
formly  did  she  follow  in  our  wake.  The  excitement  of 
the  congregation  upon  deck  had  by  this  time  become 
intense,  and  it  was  pretty  plain  that  the  boats  must 
shortly  part  company,  or  "  split  something!"  The  ras 
cal  behind  us  took  advantage  of  a  turn  in  the  channel, 
and  "  helm  a-starboard !"  was  c.early  heard  from  the 
look-out  of  our  rival,  as  she  "  hove  off,"  and  suddenly 
fell  alongside  us !  The  parson  went  below  at  once,  to 
put  his  threat  into  execution,  as  we  came  up  into  the 
current  again,  "  ne^k  and  neck  ;"  and  when  he  returned 


128     THE   CAPTAIN    WHO    WAS    AVERSE   TO   RACING. 

we  were  running  a  twenty-five-knot  lick,  the   steam 
smack  -on  to  49° ! 

"  She's  going — goin'  go ,"  muttered  an  auction 
eer  to  himself. 

"A  perfect  nonsuit,"  remarked  a  lawyer. 

"  Beaten,  but  not  vanquished,"  added  a  politician ; 
and  away  we  scudded  side  by  side  for  half  a  mile. 

"  Wouldn't  she  bear  a  leetle  more  ?"  meekly  asked 
the  parson. 

"  She's  doing  very  well,"  replied  the  captain. 
"Don't  get  excited,  gentlemen;  my  boat  is  a  new 
one — her  reputation  and  mine  is  at  stake.  We  musn't 
rush  her — racing  always  injures  a  boat,  and  I  am  averse 
to  it ;"  saying  which  he  applied  his  thumb  and  finger 
to  the  brass  knob  again — the  bell  tinkled  in  the  dis 
tance — and  our  rival  pilot  shortly  had  an  opportunity  to 
examine  the  architecture  of  our  rudder-post ! 

I  was  acquainted  with  the  engineer.  I  stepped 
below,  (believing  we  should  be  beaten  at  our  present 
speed,)  and  entering  the  engine-room — 

"  Tim,"  said  I,  "  we'll  be  licked — give  her  another 
turn,  eh?" 

"  I  rayther  think  she  moves  some  as  it  is,"  said  Tim. 

"  Yes :  but  the  C is  hard  on  us — give  her  a  little, 

my  boy — just  for " 

"  Step  in  here  a  moment,"  remarked  Tim;  "  it's  all 
'mum,'  you  know — nothin  to  be  said,  eh?  Quiet-* 
there ! — don't  she  tremble  some  ?" 

I  noticed,  for  the  first  time,  that  our  boat  did  labour 
prodigiously! 

"  But  come  round  here"  continued  Tim :  "  look 
there! — mnm^s  the  word  you  know." 


THE   CAPTAIN   WHO   WAS   AVERSE   TO    RACING.      129 

I  stepped  out  of  that  engine-room  (Tim  said  after 
wards,  that  I  u  sprang  out  at  one  bound ;"  but  he  lied !) 
in  a  hurry.  The  solder  upon  the  connection-pipe  had 
melted  and  run  down  over  the  seams  in  a  dozen  places, 
from  the  excessive  heat — a  crow-bar  was  braced  athwart 
the  safety-valve,  with  a  "  fifty-six"  upon  one  end — and 
we  were  shooting  down  the  Ohio,  under  a  head  of  steam 
"  chock  up"  to  54  40 ! ! 

My  "  sleeping  apartment"  was  well  aft.  I  entered 
the  state-room — got  over  upon  the  back  side  of  my 
berth — and,  stuffing  the  corners  of  the  pillow  into  my 
ears,  endeavoured  to  compose  myself  in  sleep.  It  was 
out  of  the  question.  In  attempting  to  u  right  myself," 
I  discovered  that  my  hair  stuck  out  so  straight,  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  get  my  head  within  six  inches  of  the 
pillow  ! 

I  tossed  about  till  daylight,  in  momentary  expectation 
of  being  landed  in  Kentucky,  (or  somewhere  else !)  but 
we  got  on  finely.  We  led  our  rival  half  an  hour  into 
Louisville;  and  I  immediately  swore  upon  my  nightcap 
that  I  would  never  accept  another  invitation,  for  a  plea 
sure  trip,  from  a  steamboat  captain  who  was  averse  to 
racing  ! 


BOB  HERRING,  THE  ARKANSAS  BEAR 
HUNTER. 

BY  T.  B.  THORPE,  ESQ.,  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 

As  the  author  of  "  The  Mysteries  of  the  Backwoods,"  and  a 
series  of  sporting  sketches  in  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  of 
which  "  The  Big  Bear  of  Arkansas,"  and  "  Tom  Owen,  the 
Bee  Hunter,"  are  perhaps  best  known,  Mr.  Thorpe  has  ac 
quired  the  most  enviable  reputation  on  both  sides  of  the  At 
lantic.  It  is  not  so  general! y  known  that  he  is,  by  profession, 
a  painter;  and  his  abilities  as  an  artist  are  cheerfully  ac 
knowledged  by  his  contemporaries.  Since  the  breaking  out 
of  the  war  with  Mexico,  Thorpe  has  visited  its  theatre,  and 
the  result  has  been  a  very  interesting  volume,  containing 
many  illustrations  from  drawings  by  himself,  made  on  thf 
spot.  It  is  called  "  Our  Army  of  Occupation ;"  the  pub 
Ushers  were  Carey-  &  Hart,  of  Philadelphia ;  and  the  worl 
may  be  obtained  at  any  book-store  for  half-a-dollar,  though 
worth  five  times  that  amount. 

IT  is  not  expected  that  a  faithful  description  of  the 
Devil's  Summer  Retreat,  in  Arkansas,  will  turn  the  cur 
rent  of  fashion  of  two  worlds,  from  Brighton  and  Bath, 
or  from  Ballston  or  Saratoga,  although  the  residents  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  that  delightful  place  profess  to 
have  ocular  demonstration,  as  well  as  popular  opinion, 
that  his  Satanic  Majesty,  in  warm  weather,  regularly 
retires  to  the  "retreat,"  and  "there  reclines  in  the 
cool."  The  solemn  grandeur  that  surrounds  this 

130 


BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER.        131 

distinguished  resort  is  worthy  of  the  hero,  as  repre 
sented  by  Milton ;  its  characteristics  are  darkness,, 
gloom,  and  mystery  ;  it  is  composed  of  the  unrivalled 
vegetation  and  forest  of  the  Mississippi  Valley.  View 
it  when  you  will,  whether  decked  out  in  all  the  luxuri 
ance  of  a  southern  summer,  or  stripped  of  its  foliage 
by  the  winter's  blasts ;  it  matters  not,  its  grandeur  is 
always  sombre.  The  huge  trees  seem  immortal,  their 
roots  look  as  if  they  struck  to  the  centre  of  the  earth, 
while  the  gnarled  limbs  reached  out  to  the  clouds. 
Here  and  there  may  be  seen  one  of  these  lordly  speci 
mens  of  vegetation  furrowed  by  the  lightning ;  from 
its  top  to  the  base  you  can  trace  the  subtle  fluid  in  its 
descent,  and  see  where  it  shattered  off  the  limb,  larger 
than  your  body,  or  turned  aside  from  some  slight  in 
equality  in  the  bark.  These  stricken  trees,  no  longer 
able  to  repel  the  numerous  parasites  that  surround  them, 
soon  become  festooned  with  wreaths  and  flowers,  wrhile 
the  damp  airs  engender  on  living  tree  and  dead,  like 
funeral  drapery,  the  pendant  moss,  that  waves  in  every 
breeze,  and  seems  to  cover  the  whole  scene  with  the 
gloom  of  the  grave.  Rising  x>ut  of  this  forest  for  ten 
square  miles,  is  the  dense  cane-brake  that  bears  the 
name  of  the  "  Devil's  Summer  Retreat ;"  it  is  formed 
by  a  space  of  ground,  on  which,  seemingly  from  its  supe 
riority  of  soil,  more  delicate  vegetation  than  surrounds 
it  has  usurped  its  empire.  Here  the  reed,  that  the 
disciple  of  Izaak  Walton  plays  over  the  northern  streams 
like  a  wand,  grows  into  a  delicate  mast,  springing  from 
the  rich  alluvium  that  gives  it  sustenance  with  the  pro 
digality  of  grass,  and  tapering  from  its  roots  to  the 
height  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet,  there  mingling,  in  com 


132       BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER. 

pact  and  luxuriant  confusion,  its  long  leaves.  A  por 
tion  of  this  brake  is  interwoven  with  vines  of  all  de 
scriptions,  which  makes  it  so  thick  that  it  seems  to  be 
impenetrable  as  a  mountain.  Here,  in  this  solitude, 
where  the  noon-day  sun  never  penetrates,  ten  thousand 
birds,  with  the  instinct  of  safety,  roost  at  night,  and  at 
the  dawn  of  day,  for  a  while,  darken  the  air  as  they 
seek  their  haunts,  their  manure  deadening,  for  acres 
round,  the  vegetation,  like  a  fire,  so  long  have  they 
possessed  the  solitude.  Around  this  mass  of  cane  and 
vine,  the  black  bears  retire  for  winter  quarters,  where 
they  pass  the  season,  if  not  disturbed,  in  the  insensi 
bility  of  sleep,  and  yet  come  out  in  the  spring  as  fat  as 
when  they  commenced  their  long  nap.  The  forest,  the 
waste,  and  the  dangers  of  the  cane  brake,  add  to  the 
excitement  of  the  Arkansas  hunter ;  he  conquers  them 
all,  and  makes  them  subservient  to  his  pursuits.  Asso 
ciated  with  these  scenes,  they  to  him  possess  no  senti 
ment  ;  he  builds  his  log  cabin  in  a  clearing  made  by  his 
own  hands,  amid  the  surrounding  grandeur,  and  it  looks 
like  a  gipsy  hut  among  the  ruins  of  a  Gothic  cathedral. 
The  noblest  trees  are  only  valuable  for  fence-rails,  and 
the  cane-brake  is  "an  infernal  dark  hole,"  where  you 
can  "  see  sights,"  "catch  bears,"  and  "  get  a  fish-pole, 
ranging  in  size  from  a  penny  whistle  to  that  of  a  young 
stove-pipe."  % 

The  undoubted  hero  of  the  Devil's  Summer  Retreat, 
is  old  Bob  Herring ;  he  has  a  character  that  would 
puzzle  three  hundred  metaphysicians  consecutively. 
He  is  as  bold  as  a  lion,  and  as  superstitious  as  an 
Indian.  The  exact  place  of  his  birth  he  cannot  tell,  as 
he  says  his  parents  "travelled"  as  long  as  he  can  re- 


BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER.       133 

member  them.  He  "  squatted  "  on  the  Mississippi,  at  its 
nearest  point  to  the  Retreat,  and  there  erecting  a  rude 
cabin  commenced  hunting  for  a  living,  having  no  pros 
pect  ahead  but  selling  out  his  "  pre-emption  right r  and 
improvements,  and  again  squatting  somewhere  else. 
Unfortunately  the  extent  of  Arkansas,  and  the  swamp 
that  surrounded  Bob's  location,  kept  it  out  of  market, 
until,  to  use  his  own  language,  he  "  became  the  an- 
cientest  inhabitant  in  the  hull  of  Arkansaw."  And 
having,  in  spite  of  himself,  gradually  formed  acquaint 
ances  with  the  few  residents  in  this  vicinity,  and  grown 
into  importance  from  his  knowledge  of  the  country  and 
his  hunting  exploits,  he  has  established  himself  for  life, 
at  what  he  calls  the  "  Wasp's  diggins,"  made  a  potato 
patch,  which  he  has  never  had  time  to  fence  in,  talked 
largely  of  a  corn-field,  and  hung  his  cabin  round  with 
rifle  pouches,  gourds,  red-peppers,  and  flaming  adver 
tisements  with  rampant  horses  and  pedigrees ;  these 
latter  ornaments  he  looks  upon  as  rather  sentimental, 
but  he  excuses  himself  on  the  ground  that  they  look 
"  hoss,"  and  he  considers  such  an  expression  as  con 
siderably  resembling  himself.  We  have  stated  that 
Bob's  mind  would  puzzle  three  hundred  metaphysicians 
consecutively,  and  we  as  boldly  assert  that  an  equal 
number  of  physiologists  would  be  brought  to  a  stand 
by  his  personal  appearance.  The  left  side  of  his  face 
is  good  looking,  but  the  right  side  seems  to  be  under 
the  influence  of  an  invisible  air-pump  ;  it  looks  sucked 
out  of  shape  ;  his  perpendicular  height  is  six  feet  one 
inch,  but  that  gives  the  same  idea  of  his  length,  that 
the  diameter  gives  of  the  circumference ;  how  long  Bob 
Herring  would  be  if  he  was  drawn  out,  is  impossible 
I 


134        BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER. 

to  tell.  Bob  himself  says,  that  he  was  made  on  too 
tall  a  scale  for  this  world,  and  that  he  was  shoved  in, 
like  the  joints  of  a  telescope.  Poor  in  flesh,  his  enor 
mous  bones  and  joints  rattle  when  he  moves,  and  they 
would  no  doubt  have  long  since  fallen  apart,  but  for 
the  enormous  tendons  that  bind  them  together  as  visibly 
as  a  good-sized  hawser  would.  Such  is  Bob  Herring, 
who  on  a  bear  hunt  will  do  more  hard  work,  crack 
more  jokes,  and  be  more  active  than  any  man  living, 
sustaining  the  whole  with  unflinching  good,  humour, 
never  getting  angry  except  when  he  breaks  his  whisky 
bottle,  or  Las  a  favourite  dog  open  on  the  wrong 
trail. 

My  first  visit  to  the  Devil's  Summer  Retreat  was  pro 
pitious,  my  companions  were  all  choice  spirits,  the  wea 
ther  was  fine,  and  Bob  Herring  inimitable.  The  bust 
ling  scene  that  prefaced  the  "  striking  the  camp  "  for 
night  lodgings,  was  picturesque  and  animated ;  a  long 
ride  brought  us  to  our  halting  place,  and  there  was 
great  relief  in  again  stepping  on  the  ground.  Having 
hobbled  our  horses,  we  next  proceeded  to  build  a  fire, 
which  was  facilitated  by  taking  advantage  of  a  dead 
tree  for  a  back-log  ;  our  saddles,  guns,  and  other  ne 
cessaries  were  brought  within  the  circle  of  its  light,  and 
lolling  upon  the  ground  we  partook  of  a  frugal  supper, 
the  better  to  be  prepared  for  our  morrow's  exertions, 
and  our  anticipated  breakfast.  Beds  were  next  made 
up,  and  few  can  be  better  than  a  good  supply  of  cane 
tops,  covered  with  a  blanket,  with  a  saddle  for  a  pil 
low  ;  upon  such  a  rude  couch,  the  hunter  sleeps  more 
soundly  than  the  effeminate  citizen  on  his  down.  The 
moon,  with  her  attendant  stars,  studded  the 


BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER.       135 

canopy  under  which  we  slept,  and  the  blazing  fire  com 
pletely  destroyed  the  chilliness  of  a  southern  December 
night. 

The  old  adage  of  "  early  to  bed  and  early  to  rise," 
was  intended  to  be  acted  upon,  that  we  might  salute 
the. tardy  sun  with  the  heat  of  our  sport,  and  probably 
we  would  have  carried  out  our  intentions  had  not  Bob 
Herring  very  coolly  asked  if  any  of  us  snored  "  un- 
kimmonly  loud,"  for  he  said  his  old  shooting  iron  would 
go  off  at  a  good  imitation  of  a  bear's  breathing !  This 
sally  from  Bob  brought  us  all  upright,  and  then  there 
commenced  a  series  of  jibes,  jokes,  and  stories,  that 
no  one  can  hear,  or  witness,  except  on  an  Arkansas 
hunt  with  aold  coons."  Bob,  like  the  immortal  Jack, 
was  witty  himself,  arid  the  cause  of  wit  in  others,  but 
he  sustained  himself  against  all  competition,  and  gave 
in  his  notions  and  experience  with  an  unrivalled  hu 
mour  and  simplicity.  He  found  in  me  an  attentive 
listener,  and  went  into  details,  until  he  talked  every 
one  but  myself  asleep.  From  general  remarks,  -he 
changed  to  addressing  me  personally,  and  as  I  had 
every  thing  to  learn,  he  went  from  the  elementary  to 
the  most  complex  experience.  "You. are  green  in  bar 
hunting,"  said  he  to  me,  in  a  commiserating  tone,  and 
with  a  toss  of  the  head  that  would  have  done  honour  to 
Mr.  Brummel  in  his  glory ;  "  green  as  a  jinson  weed — 
but  don't  get  short-winded  'bout  it,  case  it's  a  thing  like 
readin',  to  be  larnt; — a  man  don't  come  it  parfectly 
at  once,  like  a  dog  does ;  and  as  for  that,  they  larn  a 
heap  in  time  ; — thar  is  a  greater  difference  'tween  a  pup 
and  an  old  dog  on  a  bar  hunt  than  thar  is  'tween  a  ma- 
litia  man  and  a  riglar.  I  remember  when  I  couldn't 


136       BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER. 

bar  hunt,  though  the  thing  seems  onpossible  now ;  it 
only  requires  time,  a  true  eye,  and  steady  hand,  though 
I  did  know  a  fellow  that  called  himself  a  doctor,  that 
said  that  couldn't  do  it  if  you  was  narvious.  I 
asked  him  if  he  meant  by  that  agee  and  fever  ?  He 
said  it  was  the  agee  without  the  fever.  Thar  may  be 
such  a  thing  as  narvious,  stranger,  but  nothin'  but  a 
yarthquake,  or  the  agee,  can  shake  me ;  and  still  bar 
hunting  ain't  as  easy  as  scearing  a  wild  turkey,  by  a 
long  shot.  The  varmint  aint  a  hog,  to  run  with  a 
w — h — e — w ;  just  corner  one — cotch  its  cub,  or  cripple 
it,  and  if  you  don't  have  to  fight,  or  get  out  of  the  way, 
then  thar  ain't  no  cat-fish  in  the  Mississip.  I  larnt  that, 
nigh  twenty  year  ago,  and  perhaps  you  would  like  to 
know  about  it."  Signifying  my  assent,  Bob  Herring 
got  up  in  his  bed,  for  as  it  was  the  bare  ground  he  could 
not  well  get  off  of  it,  and  approaching  the  fire,  he  threw 
about  a  cord  of  wood  on  it,  in  the  form  of  a  few 
huge  logs ;  as  they  struck  the  blazing  heap  the  sparks 
flew  upwards  in  the  clear  cold  air,  like  a  jet  of  stars ; 
then  fixing  himself  comfortably,  he  detailed  what  fol 
lows: — 

"  I  had  a  knowing  old  sow  at  that  time  that  would 
have  made  a  better  hunter  than  any  dog  ever  heerd 
on  ;  she  had  such  a  nose, — talk  'bout  a  dog  following 
a  cold  trail,  she'd  track  a  bar  through  running  water. 
Well,  you  see,  afor'  I  know'd  her  vartu',  she  came 
rushing  into  my  cabin,  bristles  up,  and  fell  on  the  floor, 
from  what  I  now  believe  to  have  been  regular  sceare. 
I  thought  she'd  seen  a  bar,  for  nothing  else  could  make 
her  run  ;  and  taking  down  my  rifle,  I  went  out  a  sort 
a  carelessly,  with  only  two  dogs  at  my  heels.  Hadn't 


BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER.        137 

gone  far  afore  I  saw  a  bar,  sure  enough,  very  quietly 
standing  beside  a  small  branch — it  was  an  old  he,  and 
no  mistake.  I  crawled  up  to  him  on  my  hands  and 
knees,  and  raised  my  rifle,  but  if  I  had  fired  I  must 
have  hit  him  so  far  in  front,  that  the  ball  would  have1 
ranged  back,  and  not  cut  his  mortals.  I  waited,  and 
he  turned  tail  towards  me,  and  started  across  the  branch  ; 
afeerd  I'd  lose  him,  I  blazed  away,  and  sort  a  cut  him 
slantindicularly  through  his  hams,  and  brought  him 
down  ;  thar  he  sat,  looking  like  a  sick  nigger  with  the 
dropsy,  or  a  black  bale  of  cotton  turned  up  on  eend. 
'Twas  not  a  judgmatical  shot,  and  Smith  thar  "  (point 
ing  at  one  of  the  sleeping  hunters)  "  would  say  so." 
Hereupon  Bob  Herring,  without  ceremony,  seized  a 
long  stick,  and  thrust  it  into  Smith's  short  ribs,  who, 
thus  suddenly  awakened  from  a  sound  sleep,  seized  his 
knife,  and  looking  about  him,  asked,  rather  confusedly, 
what  was  the  matter  ?  "  Would  you,"  inquired  Bob, 
very  leisurely,  "would  you,  under  any  circumstances, 
shoot  an  old  he  in  the  hams  ?"  Smith  very  perempto 
rily  told  his  questioner  to  go  where  the  occupier  of  the 
Retreat  in  Summer  is  supposed  to  reside  through  the 
winter  months,  and  went  instantly  to  sleep  again. 
Bob  continued, — "Stranger,  the  bar,  as  I  have  said, 
was  on  his  hams,  and  thar  he  sot,  waiting  to  whip 
somebody  and  not  knowing  whar  to  begin,  when  the 
two  dogs  that  followed  me  came  up,  and  pitched  into 
him  like  a  caving  bank.  I  knowed  the  result  afor  the 
fight  began ;  Brusher  had  his  whole  scalp,  ears  and  all, 
hanging  over  his  nose  in  a  minute,  and  Tig  was  laying 
some  distance  from  the  bar,  on  his  back,  breathing  like 
a  horse  with  the  thumps ;  he  wiped  them  both  out  with 


138       BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER. 

one  stroke  of  his  left  paw,  and  thar  he  sot,  knowing  as 
well  as  I  did,  that  he  was  not  obliged  to  the  dogs  for 
the  hole  in  his  carcass,  and  thar  I  stood,  like  a  fool, 
rifle  in  hand,  watching  him,  instead  of  giving  him  an 
other  ball.  All  of  a  sudden  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  my 
hunting  shirt,  and  the  way  he  walked  at  me  with  his 
two  fore  legs  was  a  caution  to  slow  dogs.  I  instantly 
fired,  and  stepped  round  behind  the  trunk  of  a  large 
tree ;'  my  second  shot  confused  the  bar,  and  he  was 
hunting  about  for  me,  when,  just  as  I  was  patching  my 
ball,  he  again  saw  me,-  and,  with  his  ears  nailed  back 

to  his  head,  he  gave  the  d 1  w — h — e — w  I  ever 

heerd,  and  made  straight  at  me  ;  I  leaped  up  a  bank 
near  by,  and  as  I  gained  the  top  my  foot  touched  the 
eend  of  his  nose.  If  I  ever  had  the  i  narvious '  that 
was  the  time,  for  the  skin  on  my  face  seemed  an  inch 
thick,  and  my  eyes  had  more  rings  in  them  than  a  mad 
wild-cat's.  At  this  moment  several  of  my  dogs,  that 
war  out  on  an  expedition  of  their  own,  came  up,  and 
immediately  made  battle  with  the  bar,  who  shook  off 
the  dogs  in  a  flash,  and  made  at  me  agin ;  the  thing 
was  done  so  quick,  that,  as  I  raised  my  rifle,  I  stepped 
back  and  fell  over,  and  thinking  my  time  was  come, 
wished  I  had  been  born  to  be  hung,  and  not  chaw'd 
up  ;  but  the  bar  didn't  cotch  me  :  his  hind  quarters, 
as  he  came  at  me,  fell  into  a  hole  about  a  root,  and 
caught.  I  was  on  my  feet,  and  out  of  his  reach 
in  a  wink,  but  as  quick  as  I  did  this  he  had  cut 
through  a  green  root  the  size  of  my  leg :  he  did  it  in 
about  two  snaps,  but  weakened  by  the  exertion,  the 
dogs  got  hold  of  him,  and  held  on  while  I  blowed  his 
heart  out.  Ever  since  that  time  I  have  been  wide 


BOB    HERRING    THE    BEAR    HUNTER.  13$ 

awake  with  a  wounded  bar — sartinly,  or  stand  off, 
being  my  motto.  I  shall  dream  of  that  bar  to-night/ 
concluded  Bob,  fixing  his  blanket  over  him  ;  and  a  fe\n 
moments  only  elapsed  before  he  was  in  danger  of  hif 
life,  if  his  rifle  would  go  off  at  a  good  imitation  of  a 
bear's  breathing. 

Fortunately  for  me,  the  sun  on  the  following  morn 
was  fairly  above  the  horizon  before  our  little  party  was 
ready  for  the  start.  While  breakfast  was  being  prepared, 
the  rifles  were  minutely  examined  ;  some  were  taken 
apart,  and  %every  precaution  used  to  ensure  a  quick  and 
certain  fire.  A  rude  breakfast  having  been  despatched, 
lots  were  drawn,  who  should  go  into  the  drive  with  the 
dogs,  as  this  task  in  the  Devil's  Summer  Retreat  is  any 
thing  but  a  pleasant  one,  being  obliged  at  one  time  to 
walk  on  the  bending  cane — it  is  so  thick  for  hundreds 
of  yards  that  you  cannot  touch  or  see  the  ground — then 
crawling  on  your  hands  and  knees,  between  its  roots, 
sometimes  brought  to  a  complete  halt,  and  obliged  to 
cut  your  way  through  with  your  knife.  While  this  is 
going  on,  the  hunters  are  at  the  stands,  places  their 
judgments  dictate  as  most  likely  to  be  passed  by  the 
bear,  when  roused  by  the  dogs.  Two  miles  might  on 
this  occasion  have  been  passed  over  by  those  in  the 
drive,  in  the  course  of  three  hours,  and  yet,  although 
"  signs  were  plenty  as  leaves,"  not  a  bear  was  started. 
Hard  swearing  was  heard,  and  as  the  vines  encircled 
the  feet,  or  caught  one  under  the  nose,  it  was  increased. 
In  the  midst  of  this  ill  humour,  a  solitary  bark  was 
heard  ;  some  one  exclaimed,  that  was  Bose !  another 
shrill  yelp  that  sounded  like  Music's ;  breathing  was 
almost  suspended  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment; 


140       BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER. 

presently  another,  and  another  bark,  was  heard  in  quick 
succession  ,  in  a  minute  more,  the  whole  pack  of  thirty- 
Jive  staunch  dogs  opened  !  The  change  from  silence  to 
so  much  noise  made  it  almost  deafening.  No  idea  but 
personal  demonstration  can  be  had  of  the  effect  upon 
the  mind,  of  such  a  pack  baying  a  bear  in  a  cane-break. 
Before  me  were  old  hunters;  they  had  been  moving 
along,  as  if  destitute  of  energy  or  feeling,  but  now 
their  eyes  flashed,  their  lips  were  compressed,  and  their 
cheeks  flushed  ;  they  seemed  incapable  of  fatigue.  As 
for  myself,  my  feelings  almost  overcame  me,  I  felt  a 
cold  sweat  stealing  down  my  back,  my  breath  was  thick 
and  hot,  and  as  I  suspended  it,  to  hear  more  distinctly 
the  fight,  for  by  this  time  the  dogs  had  evidently  come 
up  with  the  bear,  I  could  hear  the  pulsation  of  my  heart. 
One  minute  more  to  listen,  to  learn  which  direction  the 
war  was  raging,  and  then  our  party  unanimously  sent 
forth  a  yell  that  would  have  frightened  a  nation  of  In 
dians.  The  bear  was  in  his  bed  when  the  dogs  first 
came  up  with  him,  and  he  did  not  leave  it  until  the  pack 
surrounded  him  ;  then  finding  things  rather  too  warm,  he 
broke  off  with  a  "  whew"  that  was  awful  to  hear.  His 
course  was  towards  us  on  the  left,  and  as  he  went  by, 
the  cane  cracked  and  smashed  as  if  rode  over  by  an 
insane  locomotive.  Bob  Herring  gave  the  dogs  a  salute 
as  they  passed,  close  at  the  bear's  heels,  and  the  noise 

increased,  until  he  said  "  it  sounded  as  if  all  h 1 

was  pounding  bark."  The  bear  wras  commented  on  as 
he  rushed  by  ;  one  said  he  was  "  a  buster."  "A  regular 
built  eight  years  old,"  said  another.  "  Fat  as  a  candle," 
shouted  a  third.  "  He's  the  beauty  of  the  Devil's  Sum 
mer  Retreat,  with  a  band  of  angels  after  him,"  sang  out 


BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER.       141 

Bob  Herring.  On  the  bear  plunged,  so  swiftly  that  our 
greatest  exertions  scarcely  enabled  us  to  keep  within 
hearing  distance  ;  his  course  carried  him  towards  those 
at  the  stands,  but  getting  wind  of  them,  he  turned  and 
exactly  retraced  his  course,  but  not  with  the  same  speed ; 
want  of  breath  had  already  brought  him  several  times  to 
a  stand,  and  a  fight  with  the  dogs.  He  passed  us  the 
second  time  within  two  hundred  yards,  and  coming 
against  a  fallen  tree$  backed  up  against  it,  and  showed 
a  determination,  if  necessary,  there  to  die.  We  made 
our  way  towards  the  spot,  as  fast  as  the  obstacles  in  our 
way  would  let  us,  the  hunters  anxious  to  despatch  him, 
that  as  few  dogs  as  possible  might  be  sacrificed.  The 
few  minutes  to  accomplish  this  seemed  months,  the 
fight  all  the  time  sounding  terrible,  for  every  now  and 
then  the  bear  evidently  made  a  rush  at  the  dogs,  as 
they  narrowed  their  circle,  or  came  individually  too 
near  his  person.  Crawling  through  and  over  the  cane- 
brake  was  a  new  thing  to  me,  and  in  the  prevailing 
excitement,  my  feet  seemed  tied  together,  and  there 
was  always  a  vine  directly  under  my  chin,  to  cripple  my 
exertions.  While  thus  struggling,  I  heard  a  suspicious 
cracking  in  my  rear,  and  looking  round,  I  saw  Bob 
Herring,  a  foot  taller  than  common,  stalking  over  tii? 
cane,  like  a  colossus ;  he  very  much  facilitated  my  pro 
gress,  by  a  shove  in  the  rear.  "  Come  along,  stranger," 
he  shouted,  his  voice  as  clear  as  a  bell,  "  Come  along, 
the  bar  and  the  dogs  are  going  it,  like  a  high  pressure 
nigger  camp-meeting,  and  I  must  be  thar  to  put  a  word 
in  sartin."  Fortunately  for  my  wind,  I  was  nearer  the 
contest  than  I  imagined,  for  Bob  Herring  stopped  just 
ahead  of  me,  examined  his  rifle  with  two  or  three  other 


142      BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER. 

hunters,  just  arrived  from  the  stands,  and  by  peeping 
through  the  under-growth,  we  discovered,  within  thirty 
yards  of  us,  the  fierce  raging  fight.  Nothing  distinctly, 
however,  was  seen  ;  a  confused  mass  of  legs,  heads,  and 
backs  of  dogs,  flying  about  as  if  attached  to  a  ball, 
was  all  we  could  make  out.  A  still  nearer  approach, 
and  the  confusion  would  clear  off  for  a  moment,  and 
the  head  of  the  bear  could  be  seen,  with  his  tongue 
covered  with  dust,  and  hanging  a  foot  from  his  mouth ; 
his  jaws  were  covered  with  foam  and  blood,  his  eyes 
almost  protruding  from  their  sockets,  while  his  ears 
were  so  closely  pressed  to  the  back  of  his  head,  that  he 
seemed  destitute  of  those  appendages ;  the  whole  in 
dicative  of  unbounded  rage  and  terror. 

These  glimpses  of  the  bear  were  only  momentary; 
his  persecutors  rested  but  for  a  breath,  and  then  closed 
in,  regardless  of  their  own  lives,  for  you  could  disco 
ver,  mingled  with  the  sharp  bark  of  defiance,  the  yell 
that  told  of  death.  It  was  only  while  the  bear  was 
crushing  some  luckless  dog,  that  they  could  cover  his 
back,  and  lacerate  it  with  their  teeth.  One  of  the 
hunters,  in  spite  of  the  danger,  headed  by  Bob  Herring, 
crept  upon  his  knees,  so  near  that  it  seemed  as  if  an 
other  foot  advanced  would  bring  them  within  the  circle 
of  the  fight.  Bob  Herring  was  first  within  safe  shoot 
ing  distance  to  save  the  dogs,  and  waving  his  hand  to 
those  behind  him,  he  raised  his  rifle  and  sighted,  but 
his  favourite  dog,  impatient  for  the  report,  anticipated  it 
by  jumping  on  the  bear,  who  throwing  up  his  head  at 
the  same  instant,  the  bear  received  the  ball  in  his  nose. 
At  the  crack  of  the  rifle,  the  well-trained  dogs,  thinking 
less  caution  than  otherwise  necessary,  jumped  pell-mell 


BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER.        143 

on  the  bear's  back,  and  the  hardest  fight  ever  witnessed 
in  the  Devil's  Summer  Retreat  ensued;  the  hunter, 
with  Bob,  placed  his  gun  almost  against  the  bear's  side, 
and  the  cap  snapped  ;  no  one  else  was  near  enough  to 
fire  without  hitting  the  dogs. — "  Give  him  the  knife !" 
cried  those  at  a  distance.  Bob  Herring's  long  blade 
was  already  flashing  in  his  hand,  but  sticking  a  living 
bear  is  not  child's  play ;  he  was  standing  undecided, 
when  he  saw  the  hind  legs  of  Bose  upwards  ;  thrust 
ing  aside  one  or  two  of  the  dogs  with  his  hand,  he 
made  a  pass  at  the  bear's  throat,  but  the  animal  was  so 
quick,  that  he  struck  the  knife  with  his  fore  paw,  and 
sent  it  whirling  into  the  distant  cane ;  another  was  in 
stantly  handed  him,  which  he  thrust  at  the  bear,  but  jiie 
point  was  so  blunt  that  it  would  not  penetrate  the  skin. 
Foiled  a  third  time,  with  a  tremendous  oath  on  him 
self  and  the  owner  of  the  knife  "  that  wouldn't  stick  a 
cabbage,"  he  threw  it  indignantly  from  him,  and  seiz 
ing,  unceremoniously,  a  rifle,  just  then  brought  up  by 
one  of  the  party,  heretofore  in  the  rear,  he,  regardless 
of  his  own  legs,  thrust  it  against  the  side  of  the  bear 
with  considerable  force,  and  bio  wed  him  through ;  the 
bear  struggled  but  for  a  moment,  and  fell  dead,  "  I  saw 
snakes  last  night  in  my  dreams,"  said  Bob,  handing 
back  the  rifle  to  its  owner,  "  and  I  never  had  any 
good  luck  the  next  day,  arter  sich  a  sarcumstance ; 
I  call  this  hull  hunt  about  as  mean  an  affair  as  damp 
powder  ;  that  bar  thar,"  pointing  to  the  carcass,  "  that 
thar,  ought  to  have  been  killed,  afor  he  maimed  a  dog." 
Then,  speaking  energetically,  he  said,  "  Boys,  never 
shoot  at  a  bar's  head,  even  if  your  iron  is  in  his  ear, 
it's  unsartin ;  look  how  I  missed  the  brain,  and  only 


144       BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER. 

tore  the  smellers ;  with  fewer  dogs,  and  sich  a  shot,  a 
fellow  would  be  ripped  open  in  a  powder  flash  ;  and  I 
say,  cuss  caps,  and  head  shooting ;  they  would  have 
cost  two  lives  to-day,  but  for  them  ar  dogs,  God  bless 
'em." 

With  such  remarks,  Bob  Herring  beguiled  away  the 
time,  while  he,  with  others,  skinned  the  bear.  His 
huge  carcass,  when  dressed,  though  not  over  fat,  look 
ing  like  a  young  steer's.  The  dogs,  as  they  recovered 
breath,  partook  of  the  refuse  with  relish;  the  nearest 
possible  rout  out  of  the  Devil's  Retreat  was  selected, 
and  two  horse  loads  took  the  meat  into  the  open  woods, 
where  it  was  divided  out  in  such  a  manner  that  it 
could  be  taken  home.  Bob  Herring,  while  the  dress 
ing  of  the  bear  was  going  on,  took  the  skin,  and  on  its 
inside  surface,  which  glistened  like  satin,  he  carefully 
deposited  the  caul  fat,  that  looked  like  drifted  snow, 
and  beside  it  the  liver ;  the  choice  parts  of  the  bear,  ac 
cording  to  the  gourmand  notions  of  the  frontier,  were 
in  Bob's  possession ;  and  many  years'  experience  had 
made  him  so  expert  in  cooking  it,  that  he  was  locally 
famed  for  this  matter  above  all  competitors.  It  would 
be  as  impossible  to  give  the  recipe  for  this  dish,  so  that 
it  might  be  followed  by  the  gastronomes  of  cities,  as  it 
would  to  have  the  articles  composing  it  exposed  for 
sale  in  the  markets.  Bob  Herring  managed  as  fol 
lows  :  he  took  a  long  wooden  skewer,  and  having 
thrust  its  point  through  a  small  piece  of  bear  fat,  he 
then  followed  it  by  a  small  piece  of  the  liver,  then  the 
fat,  then  the  liver,  and  so  on,  until  his  most  important 
material  was  consumed ;  when  this  was  done,  he  opened 
the  "bear's  handkerchief,"  or  caul,  and  wrapped  it 


BOB  HERRING  THE  BEAR  HUNTER.        145 

round  the  whole,  and  thus  roasted  it  before  the  fire. 
Like  all  the  secrets  in  cookery,  this  dish  depends*for  its 
flavour  and  richness  upon  exactly  giving  the  proper 
quantities,  as  a  superabundance  of  one  or  the  other 
would  completely  spoil  the  dish.  "I  was  always  un 
lucky,  boys,'7  said  Bob,  throwing  the  bear  skin  and  its 
contents  over  his  shoulder,  "  but  I've  had  my  fill  often 
of  caul  fat  and  liver ;  many  a  man,  who  thinks  he's 
lucky ,  lives  and  dies  ignorant  of  its  virtue,  as  a  'possum 
is  of  corn  cake.  If  I  ever  look  dead  don't  bury  me 
until  you  see  I  don't  open  my  eyes  when  its  ready  for 
eating ;  if  I  don't  move  when  you  show  me  it,  then  I 
am  a  done  goner,  sure."  Night  closed  in  before  we 
reached  our  homes,  the  excitement  of  the  morning 
wore  upon  our  spirits  and  energy,  but  the  evening's 
meal  of  caul  fat  and  liver,  and  other  similar  "fixins," 
or  Bob  Herring's  philosophical  remarks,  restored  me  to 
perfect  health,  and  I  shall  recollect  that  supper,  and  its 
master  of  ceremonies,  as  harmonious  with,  and  as  ex 
traordinary  as  is,  the  Devil's  Summer  Retreat. 


MCALPIN'S  TRIP  TO  CHARLESTON. 

BY    THE   AUTHOR    OF    "  COUSIN    SALLY   DILLIARD." 

The  writer  of  the  following  "  good  'un"  is  an  eminent  member 
of  the  North  Carolina  bar.  He  has  lately  furnished  the 
"  Spirit  of  the  Times"  with  a  number  of  original  stories, 
from  which  the  one  annexed  is  selected  as  a  specimen  of  his 
style: — 

IN  the  county  of  Robison,  in  the  state  of  North  Caro 
lina,  there  lived  in  times  past  a  man  by  the  name  of 
Brooks,  who  kept  a  grocery  for  a  number  of  years,  and 
so  had  acquired  most  of  the  land  round  him.  This  was 
mostly  pine  barrens,  of  small  value,  but  nevertheless 
Brooks  was  looked  up  to  as  a  great  landholder  and  big 
man  in  the  neighbourhood.  There  was  one  tract,  however, 
belonging  to  one  Colonel  Lamar,  who  lived  in  Charles 
ton,  that  "jammed  in  upon  him  so  strong,"  and  being 
withal  better  in  quality  than  the  average  of  his  own 
domain,  that  Brooks  had  long  wished  to  add  it  to  his 
other  broad  acres.  Accordingly  he  looked  around  him 
and  employed,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  the  smartest  man 
in  the  neighbourhood,"  to  wit,  one  Angus  McAlpin,  to 
go  to  Charleston  and  negotiate  with  Colonel  Lamar  for 
the  purchase  of  this  also.  Being  provided  'pretty  well 
with  bread,  meat,  and  a  bottle  of  pale-face,  which  were 
stowed  away  in  a  pair  of  leather  saddle-bags,  and,  like 
all  other  great  Plenipotentiaries,  being  provided  with 
suitable  instructions,  Mac  mounted  a  piney-wood-tacky 

146 


147 

(named  Rosum)  and  hied  him  off  to  Charleston.  The 
road  was  rather  longer  than  Brooks  had  supposed,  or 
his  agent  was  less  expeditious,  or  some  bad  luck  had 
happened  to  him,  or  something  was  the  matter  that 
Angus  did  not  get  back  until  long  alter  the  day  had 
transpired  which  was  fixed  on  for  his  return.  Brooks 
in  the  mean  time  had  got  himself  into  a  very  fury  of 
impatience.  He  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  Charleston 
road — he  was  crusty  towards  his  customers — harsh 
towards  his  wife  and  children,  and  scarcely  eat  or  slept 
for  several  days  and  nights,  for  he  had  set  his  whole 
soul  upon  buying  the  Lamar  land.  One  day,  however, 
Angus  was  descried  slowly  and  sadly  wending  his  way 
up  the  long  stretch  of  sandy  road  that  made  up  to  the 
grocery.  Brooks  went  out  to  meet  him,  and,  without 
further  ceremony,  he  accosted  him. 

"  Well,  Mac,  have  you  got  the  land  ?" 

The  agent,  in  whose  face  was  any  thing  but  sunshine, 
replied  somewhat  gruffly  that  "  he  might  let  a  body  get 
down  from  his  horse  before  he  put  at  him  with  questions 
of  business." 

But  Brooks  was  in  a  fever  of  anxiety  and  repeated 
the  question — 

"  Did  you  get  it  ?" 

"  Shaw,  now,  Brooks,  don't  press  upon  a  body  in  this 
uncivil  way.  It  is  a  long  story  and  I  must  have  time." 

Brooks  still  urged,  and  Mac  still  parried  the  question 
till  they  got  into  the  house. 

"  Now,  surely,"  thought  Brooks,  "  he  will  tell  me." 
But  Mac  was  not  quite  ready. 

"  Brooks,"  says  he,  "have  you  any  thing  to  drink?' 

"  To  be  sure  I  have,"  said  the  other,  and  immediately 


148  MCALPIN'S  TRIP  TO  CHARLESTON. 

had  some  of  his  best  forth-coming.  Having  moistened 
his  clay,  Mac  took  a  seat  and  his  employer  another.  Mac 
gave  a  preliminary  hern !  He  then  turned  suddenly 
around  to  Brooks,  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes,  and 
slapped  him  on  the  thigh — 

"  Brooks,"  says  he,  "  was  you  ever  in  Charleston?" 

•"  Why,  you  know  I  never  was,"  replied  the  other. 

"  Well,  then,  Brooks,"  says  the  agent,  "  you  ought 
to  go  there.  The  greatest  place  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth  !  They've  got  houses  there  on  both  sides  of  the 
road  for  five  miles  at  a  stretch,  and  d n  the  horse- 
track  the  whole  way  through!  Brooks,  I  think  I 
met  five  thousand  people  in  a  minute,  and  not  a  chap 
would  look  at  me.  They  have  got  houses  there  on 
wheels.  Brooks !  I  saw  one  with  six  horses  hitched  to 
it,  and  a  big  driver  with  a  long  whip  going  it  like  a 
whirlwind.  I  followed  it  down  the  road  for  a  mile 
and  a  half,  and  when  it  stopt  I  looked,  and  what  do  you 
think  there  was?  nothing  in  it  but  one  little  woman 
sitting  up  in  one  corner.  Well,  Brooks,  I  turned  back  up 
the  road,  and  as  I  was  riding  along  I  sees  a  fancy  look 
ing  chap  with  long  curly  hair  hanging  down  his  back, 
and  his  boots  as  shiney  as  the  face  of  an  up-country 
nigger !  I  called  him  into  the  middle  of  the  road  and 
asked  him  a  civil  question ;  and  a  civil  question,  you 
know,  Brooks,  calls  for  a  civil  answer  all  over  the 
world.  I  says,  says  I,  '  Stranger,  can  you  tell  me 
where  Colonel  Lamar  lives  ?J  and  what  do  you  think 
was  his  answer — f  Go  to  h /,  you  fool  /' 

"  Well,  Brooks,  I  knocks  along  up  and  down  and 
about,  until  at  last  I  finds  out  where  Colonel  Lamar 
lived.  I  gets  down  and  bangs  away  at  the  door. 


M'ALPIN'S  TPvip  TO  CHARLESTON.  149 

Presently  the  door  was  opened  by  as  pretty,  fine-spoken, 
well-dressed  a  woman  as  ever  you  seed  in  your  born 
days,  Brooks.  Silk!  Silks  thar  every  day,  Brooks! 
Says  I,  c  Mrs.  Lamar,  I  presume,  madam,'  says  I.  *  I 
am  Mrs.  Lamar,  sir.'  c  Well,  madam,'  says  I,  '  I  have 
come  all  the  way  from  North  Carolina  to  see  Colonel 
Lamar — to  see  about  buying  a  tract  of  land  from  him 
that's  up  in  our  parts?'  '  Then,'  she  says,  *  Colonel 
Lamar  has  rode  out  in  the  country,  but  will  be  back 
shortly.  Come  in,  sir,  and  wait  a  while.  I've  no 
doubt  the  colonel  will  soon  return,'  and  she  had  a  smile 
upon  that  pretty  face  of  her's  that  reminded  a  body  of  a 
Spring  morning.  Well,  Brooks,  I  hitched  my  horse  to 
a  brass  thing  on  the  door,  and  walked  in.  Well,  when 
I  got  in  I  sees  the  floor  all  covered  over  with  the  nicest 
looking  thing  !  nicer  than  any  patched- worked  bed-quilt 
you  ever  seed  in  your  life,  Brooks.  I  was  trying  to  edge 
along  round  it,  but  presently  I  sees  a  big  nigger  come 
stepping  right  over  it.  Thinks  I,  if  that  nigger  can  go 
it,  I  can  go  it,  too !  So  right  over  it  I  goes  and  takes 
my  seat  right  before  a  picture,  which  at  first  I  thought 
was  a  little  man  looking  in  at  the  window.  Well, 
Brooks,  there  I  sot  waiting  and  waiting  for  Colonel 
Lamar,  and  at  last — he  didn't  come,  but  they  began  to 
bring  in  dinner.  Thinks  I  to  myself,  here's  a  scrape. 
But  I  made  up  my  mind  to  tell  her,  if  she  axed  me  to 
eat — to  tell  her  with  a  genteel  bow  that  I  had  no  occa 
sion  to  eat.  But.  Brooks,  she  didn't  ax  me  to  eat — she 
axed  me  if  I'd  be  so  good  as  to  carve  that  turkey  for 
her,  and  she  did  it  with  one  of  them  lovely  smiles  that 
makes  the  cold  streaks  run  down  the  small  of  a  feller's 
back.  l  Certainly,  madam,'  says  I,  and  I  walks  up  to 
I 


150  MCALPIN'S  TRIP  TO  CHARLESTON. 

the  table — there  was  on  one  side  of  the  turkey  a  great 
big  knife  as  big  as  a  bowie  knife,  and  a  fork  with  a 
trigger  to  it  on  the  other  side.  Well,  I  falls  to  work, 
and  in  the  first  e-fort  I  slashed  the  gravy  about  two  yards 
over  the  whitest  table-cloth  you  ever  seed  in  your  life, 
Brooks  !  Well !  I  felt  the  hot  steam  begin  to  gather 
about  my  cheeks  and  eyes.  But  Pm  not  a  man  to  back 
out  for  trifles,  so  I  makes  another  e-fort,  and  the  darned 
thing  took  a  flight  and  lit  right  in  Mrs.  Lamar's  lap  ! 
Well,  you  see,  Brooks,  then  I  was  taken  with  a  blind 
ness,  and  the  next  thing  I  remember  I  was  upon  the 
hath  a-kicking.  Well,  by  this  time  I  began  to  think  of 
navigating.  So  T  goes  out  and  mounts  Rosum,  and 
cuts  for  North  Carolina!  Now,  Brooks,  you  don't 
blame  me  !  Do  you  ?" 


INDIA  RUBBER  PILLS. 

BY    "  CHEVAL,"    OF    PHILADELPHIA. 

The  following  anecdote  of  a  "  Down-East"  quack  doctor  was 
furnished  by  a  young  gentleman  who  has  just  made  his  debut 
as  a  correspondent  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times."  He  pro 
mises  to  be  "  one  of  'em." 

IN  the  manufacturing  city  of  L ,  there  lives  a 

certain  Dr.  D .  Not  that  he  has  a  legitimate  title 

to  write  M.  D.  behind  his  name ;  but  all  who  know 
him  are  conscious  that  he  deserves  something  more 
than  plain  Mister,  and  as  he  is  a  chemist  and  drug 
gist  by  profession,  common  consent  has  established  the 
"Doctor." 

Were  I  to  attempt  to  describe  the  doctor  as  he  merits, 
you  would  be  compelled  to  issue  an  extra,  but  I  cannot 
resist  the  opportunity  of  giving  him  a  "  passing  notice." 
In  the  first  place,  he  is  a  "  universal  genius."  He 
does  every  thing  he  undertakes  better  than  any  one  else 
can.  Nothing  comes  amiss  to  him,  from  a  pill  to  a 
porcelain  tooth — from  a  lotion  to  a  landscape — from  a 

draught  to  a  drawing.  A W ,  Esq.,  has 

among  his  collection  of  pictures  a  couple  of  landscapes 
painted  by  the  doctor,  which  would  do  credit  to  the 
cabinet  of  any  gentleman  in  the  country.  In  short, 

151 


152  l%    INDIA   RUBBER   PILLS. 

were  he  a  Yankee,  he  knows  enough  to  revolutionize 
half  the  world. 

Some  years  ago,  about  the  time  we  began  to  discover 
that  India  rubber  could  be  put  to  other  uses  besides 
making  over-shoes  and  erasing  pencil-marks,  our  doc 
tor  prepared  a  compound  of  the  article,  which  could  be 
applied  to  either  leather  or  cloth,  making  it  "  as  imper 
vious  to  water  as  a  drunkard's  throat."  Accommodat 
ing  himself  to  the  universal  taste  for  humbug,  he  hung, 
on  the  outside  of  his  shop,  large  placards  headed — 

"  BEWARE    OF    COLDS,    COUGHS,    AND    CONSUMPTION." 

Underneath  was  a  long  description  of  the  evils  and  ills 
consequent  upon  getting  wet  feet;  all  of  which  were  to 
be  avoided  by  using  Dr.  D 's  "  celebrated  com 
pound." 

The  mixture  was  put  up  in  small  boxes,  neatly  la 
belled,  and  much  resembling  many  "  patent  medicines." 

One  "  sloppy  day"  in  March,  a  tall,  lanky,  factory 
girl,  just  fresh  from  "  Varmount,"  came  splashing  along 
through  the  snow  and  water,  coughing  at  every  step  as 
though  she  were  on  her  way  to  make  a  bargain  with  the 
sexton.  The  placards  caught  her  eye,  and  she  read 
one  through  with  open-mouthed  attention.  When 
finished,  she  stepped  into  the  shop,  and  bought  a  box 
of  the  mixture,  being  served  by  the  doctor  in  person. 

A  few  days  after,  the  doctor  was  standing  behind  his 
counter,  outside  of  which  were  two  or  three  of  his 
friends.  In  came  the  same  girl,  coughing,  if  possible, 
more  than  before,  and  the  following  dialogue  ensued. 
I  must  here  remark  that  our  friend  the  doctor  is  rather 
"  gruff"  in  look,  and  oftentimes  rough  in  manner  and 
speech,  although  a  better-hearted  being  never  breathed. 


INDIA    RUBBER   PILLS.     ^  153 

"  See  here,"  said  the  girl,  as  well  as  she  could  for 
coughing,  "  I  warnt  you  to  take  back  this  stuff  of  yourn, 
'taint  good  for  nothin  V 

"  'Taint  good  for  nothin',"  replied  the  doctor,  imitat 
ing  her,  for  he  was  touched  on  a  tender  point.  "  What 
does  the  girl  mean  ?  Let  me  see  the  box." 

The  box  was  produced  and  opened,  when  there  ap 
peared  to  have  been  a  small  portion  scooped  out,  some 
thing  as  it  might  have  been  done  by  one's  thumb  nail. 

"  Why,"  said  the  doctor,  "  how  can  you  tell  that 
'  the  stuff '  aint  good  for  nothin9^  when  you  have  not  used 
one  quarter  the  proper  quantity  ?" 

"  I  took  as  much  as  I  darst  tu,"  answered  the  girl, 
"  and  as  much  as  the  rest  of  the  gals  said  would  be 
enuff." 

"  Took  /"  almost  shouted  the  doctor—"  Took !  What 
do  you  mean  by  taking  ?  How  did  you  take  it  ?" 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  the  girl,  "  I  didn't  know  what  to 
do  with  it  myself,  so  I  asked  the  other  gals,  and  they 
said  I  must  make  it  into  pills.  I  took  four  when  I  went 
tu  bed,  and  the  next  mornin'  I  coughed  worser  than 
ever." 

"Humph!"  growled  the  doctor,  at  the  same  time 
handing  the  girl  back  her  money.  "  Took  it,  did  ye,  in 
the  shape  of  pills  ?  Well,  if  you  aren't  water-tight  for 
the  balance  of  your  life,  Fm  bio  wed !" 

The  poor  girl  sloped  just  in  time  to  prevent  the  doc 
tor's  friends  from  expiring. 


A  MURDER  CASE  IN  MISSISSIPPI. 


One  of  the  best  diurnals  published  south  of  "  Mason  &  Dixon's 
Line,"  is  the  New  Orleans  "  Daily  Delta,"  of  Messrs.  Davis, 
Corcoran,  &  Hayes.  To  which  of  them  we  are  indebted  for 
the  following1  "  good  thing,"  deponent  saith  not ;  we  confess 
judgment,  however,  that  we  "owe  him  one." 

WHILE  sojourning  for  a  few  days,  about  the  period 
of  the  solstice  last  summer,  in  one  of  the  marine  vil 
lages  of  the  state  of  Mississippi,  that  skirt  the  Mexican 
Gulf,  an  event  transpired  which,  for  a  time — a  brief 
time  only — started  the  harnlet  from  its  propriety.  We 
shall  proceed  to  give  a  hurried  sketch  of  the  occur 
rence,  with  the  view  of  giving  it  typical  notoriety. 

The  sun,  on  the  morning  of  the  day  to  which  we  are 
about  to  refer,  rose  from  the  Gulf  with  a  rosy  glow,  and 
ere  long  flung  forth  its  rays,  polishing  its  surface,  as 
though  it  were  a  "monster"  mirror.  Bilious-looking, 
liver-affected  gentlemen,  in  broad-brimmed  Panama  and 
Leghorn  hats,  and  morning  gowns  ;  young  ladies  in 
sun  bonnets  and  "  Nora  creena "  dresses ;  and  older 
ladies  in  no  particular  style  of  dress,  might  be  seen 
wending  their  way  up  to  the  hotel,  having  taken  their 
matin  ablution.  The  birds  in  the  neighbouring  pine- 
trees  had  given  their  first  concert  for  the  morning ;  the 
sun  was  fast  beginning  to  absorb  the  little,  crystallized, 
1 54 


A    MURDER    CASE    IN    MISSISSIPPI.  155 

globular  dew  drops,  which,  a  short  time  before,  sur 
mounted  the  grass  blades,  making  the  lawn  in  front  of 
the  hotel  look  like  an  enamelled  carpet,  ornamented 
with  spangles.  Dissipated-looking  gentlemen  might 
also  be  observed,  hurriedly  preparing  their  toilet  for 
breakfast,  and  little  else  was  to  be  heard  than  a  call  for 
"  boots  "  from  No.  5 — a  call  for  soap  from  No.  9,  or 
a  call  for  a  napkin  from  No.  13,  except^  the  hissing 
of  the  fish,  as,  half  covered  in  butter,  they  fried  in  the 
kitchen. 

While  things  were  in  a  state  such  as  we  have  repre 
sented  them,  a  tall,  thin  man,  with  the  nether  ends  of 
his  trousers  thrust  into  the  legs  of  his  horse-skin  boots, 
without  any  coat,  unshaven,  and  wearing  an  old  cone- 
crowned,  gray,  woollen  hat,  walked  hurriedly  and  agi 
tatedly  up  to  where  a  group  of  boarders  was  standing 
at  the  hotel  door,  and  inquired  for  the  attorney  of  the 
district,  who  happened  to  be  standing  at  the  hotel  at 
the  time.  The  latter  functionary  having  heard  his 
name  mentioned,  walked  out  from  his  room  and 
asked  "  Jones  " — the  man  in  the  horse-skin  boots — 

"  What  the  d 1  are  you  after  so  early? — Court  don't 

sit  till  ten." 

Now  Jones,  knowing  that  to  answer  this  very  fami 
liar,  though  not  very  polite  interrogatory,  he  would 
have  to  open  his  mouth,  and  knowing  that  in  opening 
his  mouth  he  could  not  retain  the  quantity  of  tobacco 
juice  with  which  it  was  filled,  took  the  preliminary  pre 
caution  to  expectorate  it,  before  replying  to  the  learned 
district  attorney ;  which  done,  he  told  him  in  a  half- 
mysterious,  half- astonished  tone,  that  "  it  was  done  at 
last." 


156  A   MURDER    CASE    IN    MISSISSIPPI. 

"  Jones,"  says  the  district  attorney,  "  you're  a  living 
note  of  admiration!" — and  Jones,  by  the  way,  did  not 
look  unlike  a  standing  one.  "  You're  like  the  dwarf 
with  the  two  heads,  who  is  so  old  that  nobody  can  tell 
his  age — you're  a  perpetual  wonder — what  is  it  that's 
done  now,  that  seems  to  excite  your  alarm  so  ?" 

"  Why,  Granger  has  killed  his  wife  at  last,"  said 
Jones — who  turned  out  himself  to  be  a  limb  of  the 
law — being  constable,  crier  of  the  court,  and  subpoena- 
server  on  delinquent  tax-payers. 

"  0,  he  has,  has  he  ?"  said  the  district  attorney — 
"  let  me  have  your  tobacco,  Jones." 

Jones  handed  the  legal  representative  of  the  state, 
or  of  that  certain  district  of  it,  his  honey-dew,  and  the 
D.  A.  having  cut  a  chunk  off  it  and  deposited  it  in  his 
jaw,  coolly  remarked — "  You  have  summoned  an  in 
quest,  and  secured  Granger,  of  course." 

Jones. — "  I  have  secured  Granger,  and  an  almighty 
tough  job  I  had  of  it ;  but  I  reckon  the  body  must  be 
found  first,  'fore  there's  an  inquest.  I  don't  know  no 
law,  if  the  Magistrate's  •  Manual  don't  say,  in  an  article 
on  dead  bodies,  page  106,  that  there  can't  be  no  inquest 
where  there  aint  no  body  found." 

District  Attorney — Contemptuously. — "  0,  Jones,  I 
admit  you're  a  most  profound  lawyer ;  but  notice  the 
judge ;  tell  him  I  will  be  in  court  at  ten  o'clock — let 
him  be  there  to  hear  this  case ;  and  I  will  be  there  to 
investigate  it,  in  the  name  and  on  behalf  of  the  sove 
reign  state  of  Mississippi ;  but,"  descending  from  his 
dignity,  "Jones,  let  us  liquor  before  you  go." 

"  Squire,"  said  Jones,  "  you  ought  to  be  chancellor, 


A   MURDER   CASE    IN   MISSISSIPPI.  157 

you  ought.  It's  the  first  time  I  shook  the  dew  off  my 
boots  this  morning." 

They  liquored,  and  Jones  went  to  obey  the  orders  of 
him  who  had  succeeded  in  ascending  a  few  rounds 
above  him  on  the  legal  ladder.  Granger's  murder  of 
the  wife  of  his  bosom  was  the  sole  talk  at  the  breakfast- 
table,  and,  indeed,  of  the  whole  village.  No  one  ex 
actly  knew  how  the  bloody  and  inhuman  deed  was  per 
petrated — nor  where  the  body  was  :  but  all  agreed  that 
it  was  a  most  diabolical  murder.  They  knew  it  would 
come  to  that,  they  said  ;  they  were  always  quarrelling, 
was  Granger  and  his  wife,  and  often  drunk  ;  it  could 
not  be  otherwise.  Blood  was  found  on  the  floor,  and 
on  a  knife  that  was  found  under  the  cupboard.  But 
what  could  have  been  done  with  the  body  ?  One  saw 
Granger  sink  a  large  box  in  the  lake  before  day  ;  an 
other  saw  two  young  Saw-bones,  from  New  Orleans,  put 
off  in  a  skiff  a  little  after  day,  in  which  there  was  some 
thing  in  a  sack ;  and  a  third  noticed  the  earth  freshly 
dug  in  the  woods,  at  the  rear  of  Granger's  house. 

Ten  o'clock  came,  and  the  dingy  log-cabin  which 
formed  the  court-house  was  crowded.  The  judge  sat 
on  the  bench,  behind  a  huge  pair  of  iron-cased  spec 
tacles;  the  district  attorney  was  poring  over  a  "  dog 
eared  "  edition  of  "  Starkie  on  Evidence."  Jones 
was  sitting  with  his  horseskin  boots  stuck  upon  the 
table  before  him  and  before  the  judge,  his  feet,  of 
course,  being  in  them ;  and  Granger,  the  most  uncon 
cerned-looking  man  in  court,  was  whittling  a  stick 
where  he  sat,  to  the  right  but  in  the  rear  of  the  bench. 

"Are  you  prepared  to  proceed  with  this  case,  Mr. 
District  Attornev?"  said  the  jud^e. 

J  JO 


A    MURDER    CASE    IN    MISSISSIPPI. 

"  I  am  prepared,  your  honour,"  said  the  district  at 
torney. 

"  Are  you  ready  to  proceed  to  preliminary  trial,  Wil 
liam  Granger  ?"  said  the  judge,  with  all  the  assumed 
solemn  dignity  of  a  marshal ;  "  or,  if  you  are  not  now, 
when  will  you  ?"  he  added. 

"Just  whenever  you  please,"  said  Granger,  in 
a  maudlin  tone  of  indifference ;  "  but  if  Sal  had 
taken  my  advice,  this  would  never  have  happened. 
She " 

"  Silence,  sir,"  said  the  judge ;  "  in  the  first  place 
you  must  learn  to  respect  the  court,  and  in  the  next 
place,  you  are  not  bound  to  tell  any  thing  that  will  cri 
minate  yourself.  Mr.  District  Attorney,  proceed." 

Granger  muttered,  "  Criminate  the  d 1." 

Jones  called  silence.  The  district  attorney  then  took 
from  between  his  teeth  some  masticated  tobacco,  and 
proceeded  :  "  May  it  please  this  court,  I  am  about  to 
lay  before  you  the  skeleton — I  say  the  skeleton — for  the 
great  body  of  facts  are  not  yet  fully  developed.  I  am 
about  to  lay  before  you,  I  say,  the  skeleton  of  as  foul  a 
murder — as  inhuman  a  murder — as  unnatural  a  murder  as 
was  ever  recorded  in  the  annals  of  crime.  [Jlside — Jones, 
give  me  your  tobaccer.]  Yes,  sir,  a  murder,  which, 
considering  the  relations  that  existed  between  the  mur 
derer  and  his  victim,  would,  as  Shakspeare  says,  curl 
up  a  nigger's  blood,  and,  what  is  harder  still,  make  his 
hair  stand  on  end,  like  the  tail  of  a  frightened  gobbler! 
But,  sir,  although  the  manner  in  which  this  foul  deed 
was  perpetrated  is  at  present  shrouded  in  mystery — of 
the  fact  of  the  murder  there  is  no  doubt ;  the  prisoner 
and  his  wife  were  heard  quarrelling  last  evening ;  she 


A    MURDER    CASE    IN    MISSISSIPPI.  159 

lias  not  been  since  seen.  The  traces  of  blood  are  visi 
ble  on  the  floor,  and  a  knife  with  clotted  gore  on  it  was 
discovered  under  the  cupboard !" 

Granger  attempted  to  say  something  about  the  blood 
on  the  floor  and  on  the  knife  being  that  of  a  chicken 
Sail  killed  the  previous  evening,  but  Jones  called 
silence !  and  would  permit  him  to  make  no  explanation. 
The  district  attorney  proceeded  : — "  I  was  saying,  your 
honour,  that  up  to  this  time,  the  body  of  the  murdered 
wife  has  not  been  discovered.  But,  as  *  murder  speaks 
with  most  miraculous  organ,'  it  will,  no  doubt,  soon  be 
seen." 

And  so,  in  truth,  it  was,  for  the  district  attorney  had 
not  well  finished  his  quotation,  when  Mrs.  Granger,  all 
alive,  protruding  her  head  into  the  court,  called  out — 
"  Consarn  you,  Bill  Granger,  is  it  there  you  be,  instead 
of  hoein'  the  taters !  but  when  I  was  goin'  to  that  ere 
quiltin'  frolic  of  Mrs.  Sharp's  last  evenin',  I  said  you 
wouldn't  do  nothin'  till  I  came  back,  and  I  knew  you 
wouldn't — consarn  your  picter!" 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say,  that  the  appearance  of  Mrs. 
Granger,  in  proper  person — in  substance,  not  in  shade — 
in  court  created  no  little  consternation.  The  fear, 
which  what  was  believed  her  apparition  first  occasioned, 
was  succeeded  on  the  part  of  the  crowd  by  a  unani 
mous  burst  of  humour,  but,  on  the  part  of  the  judge 
and  the  district  attorney,  by  a  consciousness  that  they 
had  made  themselves  rather  ridiculous.  "I  think  we 
have  proceeded  far  enough  in  this  case,"  said  the 
judge. 

"  I  call  for  a  conviction,"  said  Jones.     "I  ain't  a  goin 


160  A   MURDER    CASE    IN   MISSISSIPPI. 

to  be  chizzelled  out  of  my  fees  for  making  the  arrest, 
that  way." 

"  Why  the  woman  that  you  charged  Granger  with 
killing — his  wife — stands  before  you !"  said  the  judge, 
surprised  at  the  absurdity  of  Jones's  request. 

"  0,  you  can't  come  it,  judge,"  said  Jones.  "  I  sup 
pose  you  don't  think  I  never  read  law  ;  just  hold  on  a 
while  " — and  he  snatched  up  "  Phillips  on  Evidence," 
turning  to  page  64,  triumphantly  read  : — 

"  As  a  party  on  record  is  not  a  competent  witness — 
neither  is  the  husband  or  wife  of  the  party  competent  to 
give  evidence  either  for  or  against  the  party ;"  and  throw 
ing  down  the  book,  he  exclaimed — "  there,  I  believe  that 
settles  the  pint ;  I  believe,  'cording  to  law,  Mrs.  Gran 
ger  ain't  a  competent  witness  to  prove  in  favour  of  her 
husband  in  this  case.  I  reckon  not." 

The  court  was  dismissed.  Granger  and  his  wife 
went  home,  arguing,  as  usual,  by  the  way  ;  the  specta 
tors  were  convulsed  with  laughter  at  the  termination 
of  the  awful  murder  case ;  the  judge  and  the  district 
attorney  attributed  the  mistakes  of  the  morning  to  that 
"  fool,  Jones,"  and  Jones  swore  he  would  never  make 
another  arrest  as  long  as  he'd  live. 


KICKING  A  YANKEE. 

BY   JOS.  M.  FIELD,  ESQ.,   OF   THE    ST.  LOUIS 

Few  men  of  his  age  have  written  so  much  and  so  well  as  Mr. 
Field,  whose  contributions  to  the  press,  under  the  signatures 
of  "  Straws,"  "  Everpoint,"  etc.,  etc.,  would  make  a  large  and 
most  amusing  series  of  pen  and  ink  sketches.  His  facility 
of  composition  is  not  less  surprising  than  his  industry,  for  he 
has  been  for  years  either  engaged  in  the  laborious  profession 
of  the  stage,  or  writing  for  a  daily  newspaper. 

A  VERY  handsome  friend  of  ours,  who  a  few  weeks  ago 
was  poked  out  of  a  comfortable  office  up  the  river,  has 
betaken  himself  to  Bangor,  for  a  time,  to  recover  from 
the  wound  inflicted  upon  his  feelings  by  our  "  unprinci 
pled  and  immolating  administration." 

Change  of  air  must  have  had  an  instantaneous  effect 
upon  his  spirits,  for,  from  Galena,  he  writes  us  an 
amusing  letter,  which,  among  other  things,  tells  us  of  a 
desperate  quarrel  that  took  place  on  board  of  the  boat 
between  a  real  live  dandy  tourist,  and  a  real  live  Yankee 
settler.  The  latter  trod  on  the  toes  of  the  former; 
whereupon  the  former  threatened  to  "  Kick  out  of  the 
cabin"  the  latter. 

"  You'll  kick  me  out  of  this  cabing  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I'll  kick  you  out  of  this  cabin !" 

"  You'll  kick  me,  Mr.  Hitchcock,  out  of  this  cabing  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I'll  kick  you,  Mr.  Hitchcock!" 

161 


162  KICKING   A   YANKEE. 

"  Wai,  I  guess,"  said  the  Yankee,  very  coolly,  after 
being  perfectly  satisfied  that  it  was  himself  who  stood 
in  such  imminent  peril  of  assault — "  I  guess,  since  you 
talk  of  kicking,  you've  never  heard  me  tell  about  old 
Bradley  and  my  mare,  there,  to  hum  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  nor  do  I  wish " 

"  Wai,  guess  it  won't  set  you  back  much,  any  how, 
as  kicking's  generally  best  to  be  considered  on.  You 
see  old  Bradley  is  one  of  these  sanctimonious,  long- 
faced  hypocrites,  who  put  on  a  religious  suit  every 
Sabbath  morning,  and  with  a  good  deal  of  screwing, 
manage  to  keep  it  on  till  after  sermon  in  the  afternoon ; 
and  as  I  was  a  Universalist,  he  allers  picked  me  out  as 
a  'subject  for  religious  conversation — and  the  darned 
hypocrite  would  talk  about  heaven,  hell,  and  the  devil — 
the  crucifixion  and  prayer,  without  ever  winking.  Wai, 
he  had  an  old  roan  mare  that  would  jump  over  any 
fourteen-rail  fence  in  Illinois,  and  open  any  door  in  my 
barn  that  hadn't  a  padlock  on  it.  Tu  or  three  times  I 
found  her  in  my  stable,  and  I  told  Bradley  about  it,  and 
he  was  £  very  sorry' — '  an  unruly  animal' — c  would  watch 
her,'  and  a  hull  lot  of  such  things,  all  said  in  a  very 
serious  manner,  with  a  face  twice  as  long  as  old  Deacon 
Farrar's  on  Sacrament  day.  I  knew  all  the  time  he  was 
lying,  and  so  I  watched  him  and  his  old  roan  tu ;  and 
for  three  nights  regular,  old  roan  came  to  my  stable 
about  bedtime,  and  just  at  daylight  Bradley  would  come, 
bridle  her,  and  ride  off.  I  then  just  took  my  old  mare 
down  to  a  blacksmith's  shop,  and  had  some  shoes  made 
with  c  corks'  about  four  inches  long,  and  had  'em  nailed 
on  to  her  hind  feet.  Your  heels,  mister,  aint  nuthing 
tu  'em.  I  took  her  home,  give  her  about  ten  feet 


KICKING    A    YANKEE.  163 

halter,  and  tied  her  right  in  the  centre  of  the  stable,  fed 
her  well  with  oats  about  nine  o'clock,  and  after  taking 
a  good  smoke,  went  to  bed,  knowing  that  my  old  mare 
was  a  truth-telling  animal,  and  that  she'd  give  a  good 
report  of  herself  in  the  morning.  I  hadn't  got  fairly  to 
sleep  before  the  old  'oman  hunched  me  and  wanted  to 
know  what  on  airth  was  the  matter  out  at  the  stable. 
Says  I,  {  Go  tu  sleep,  Peggy,  it  is  nothing  but  Kate — 
she  is  kicking  off  flies,  I  guess!'  Purty  soon  she 
hunched  rne  agin,  and  says  she,  *  Mr.  Hitchcock,  du  git 
up  and  see  what  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  Kate, 
for  she  is  kicking  most  powerfully.'  '  Lay  still,  Peggy, 
Kate  will  take  care  of  herself,  I  guess.'  Wai,  the  next 
morning,  about,  daylight,  Bradley,  with  bridle  in  hand, 
cum  to  the  stable,  as  true  as  the  book  of  Genesis ;  when 
he  saw  the  old  roan's  sides,  starn,  and  head,  he  cursed 
and  swore  worse  than  you  did,  mister,  when  I  came 
down  on  your  toes.  Alter  breakfast  that  morning  Joe 
Davis  cum  to  my  house,  and  says  he,  *  Bradley's  old 
roan  is  nearly  dead — she's  cut  all  to  pieces  and  can 
scarcely  move.'  *  I  want  to  know,'  says  I,  *  how  on 
airth  did  it  happen  ?'  Now  Joe  Davis  was  a  member 
of  the  same  church  with  Bradley,  and  whilst  we  were 
talking,  up  cum  that  everlastin'  hypocrite,  and  says  he, 
'  Mr.  Hitchcock,  my  old  roan  is  ruined  !'  '  Du  tell,' 
says  I.  ' She  is  cut  all  to  pieces,'  says  he ;  'do  you 
know  whether  she  was  in  your  stable,  Mr.  Hitchcock, 
last  night  ?'  Wai,  mister,  with  this  I  let  out :  l  Do  I 
know  it?' — (the  Yankee  here,  in  illustration,  made  a 
sudden  advance  upon  the  dandy,  who  made  way  for 
him  unconsciously,  as  it  were) — {Do  I  know  it,  you 
no-souled,  shad-bellied,  squash-headed,  old  night-owl 


164  KICKING    A    YANKEE. 

you! — you  hay-hookin',  corn-cribbin',  fodder-fudgin', 
cent-shavin',  whitliii'-of-nuthin'  you ! — Kate  kicks  like 
a  mere  dumb  beast,  but  I've  reduced  the  thing  to  a 
science  /'  "  The  Yankee  had  not  ceased  to  advance,  or 
the  dandy,  in  his  astonishment,  to  retreat ;  and  now,  the 
motion  of  the  latter  being  accelerated  by  an  apparent 
demonstration  on  the  part  of  the  former  to  "  suit  the 
action  to  the  word,"  he  found  himself  in  the  "  social 
hall,"  tumbling  backwards  over  a  pile  of  baggage,  and 
tearing  the  knees  of  his  pants  as  he  scrambled  up,  a 
perfect  scream  of  laughter  stunning  him  from  all  sides. 
The  defeat  was  total : — a  few  moments  afterwards  he 
was  seen  dragging  his  own  trunk  ashore,  while  Mr. 
Hitchcock  finished  his  story  on  the  boiler  deck. 


Del 


"The  Yankee  had  not  ceased  to  advance,  or  the  dandy,  in  his  astonishment, 
to  retreat." — Page  161. 


A  "DOWN  EAST"  ORIGINAL. 

BY    "DE   NOGBY,"    OF   BOSTON. 

"  De  Nogby"  is  an  illustrious  member  of  the  renowned  "  Digby 
Club"  of  the  "  Modern  Athens,"  as  also  of  that  time-hon 
oured  sodality,  the  "  Mammoth  Cod  Association,"  which  last 
recently  celebrated  its  267th  anniversary !  Since  our  promo 
tion  to  the  responsible  situation  of  chairman  of  the  "  Com 
mittee  on  Bimbo,"  it  is  understood  that  "De  Nogby"  is 
prosecuting  his  studies  at  the  Swimming  School  with  the 
utmost  assiduity,  in  the  hope  of  an  appointment  to  the  "  Com 
mittee  on  Drowning." 

I  WAS  rash  enough  on  the  first  of  the  month  to  go  into 
the  country  to  live,  seduced  by  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson's 
laudation  of  Spring,  and  am  heartily  sick  of  it,  for  the 
wind  has  been  on  a  blow  ever  since,  and,  like  a  big 
baby,  made  a  child's  rattle  of  every  thing  it  could  lay 
its  hands  to,  from  a  "  huckleberry"  bush  up  to  an  ortho 
dox  meeting-house.  But  there  is  one  consolation :  my 
hen's  nest  is  so  arranged  that  the  eggs  fall  directly  from 
the  fowl  into  my  skillet  of  hot  water ;  consequently  I 
eat  them  fresher,  perhaps,  than  they  do  at  some  board 
ing-houses,  where  the  landladies  appear  to  believe  that 
they  are  not  fit  to  cook  until  they  have  attained  the 
haut  gout.  Or,  perhaps,  they  keep  them  until  they  are 
cheap  enough  to  eat,  on  the  same  principle  that  "Johnny 

L "  (of  whom  so  many  queer  stories  are  told)  kept 

his  fish.     "  Johnny"  was  seen  carrying  home  a  piece 
L  165 


166  A  "DOWN-EAST' 

of  fresh  salmon  at  a  time  when  it  was  a  dollar  a  pound  ; 
he  was  asked  why  he  didn't  wait  until  it  was  cheaper  ? 
"Aha!"  replied  Johnny,  "  I  know  what  Pm  about.  I 
shall  put  it  in  my  ice-chest,  and  when  it  gets  down  to 
twenty-five  cents  a  pound,  I  shall  eat  it !" 

Johnny  is  the  same  "  stick"  who  set  a  light  that  the 
rats  might  see  to  go  into  his  trap,  and  when  asked  by 
the  painter  what  letter  he  would  have  put  on  the  panel 
of  his  carriage,  preferred  W,  because  he  thought  it  the 
best  looking  in  the  whole  alphabet.  He  once  marked 
up  the  prices  of  his  goods  in  a  dull  season,  and  when 
he  had  finished  the  job  went  home  and  told  his  wife  he 
had  made  a  thousand  dollars  by  the  operation — forget 
ting  that  the  merchandise  yet  remained  to  be  sold. 
Told,  once,  that  his  store  wras  on  fire,  he  said  it  couldn't 
be,  for  he  had  the  key  in  his  pocket ;  and  he  is  said  to 
have  ordered  a  huge  thermometer  to  regulate  the  weather, 
and  locked  his  door  to  keep  the  heat  out.  When  he  had 
killed  his  pig,  he  sagely  remarked  that  u  it  didn't  weigh 
as  much  as  he  expected,  and  he  never  thought  it  would." 
He  sold  half  of  his  porker  to  a  neighbour,  but  it  was  a 
question  how  it  should  be  divided,  after  cutting  it  across 

in  the  middle.     The  neighbour  proposed  that  L 

should  put  his  hand  unseen  by  him  on  one  extremity  or 
the  other,  and  he'd  say,  without  knowing  what  it  was, 
whether  he  would  have  it  or  not.  Johnny  consented, 
and  slightly  cutting  off  the  pig's  curly  termination,  when 
his  friend's  back  was  turned,  stuck  it  on  the  nose,  and 
demanded,  "  Who  shall  have  the  part  with  the  tail  on  ?" 
"  I !"  exclaimed  the  other  triumphantly.  "  Then  you 
have  got  the  fore-quarters  !"  said  Johnny.  On  another 
occasion,  some  waggish  butchers  in  the  market  per- 


A  "DOWN-EAST"  ORIGINAL.  167 

suaded  him  that  it  would  improve  the  looks  of  his 
favourite  dog  to  cut  his  tail  shorter.  Johnny  assented, 
but  fearing  to  trust  the  operation  to  any  of  the  wags,  he 
got  them  to  hold  the  animal  while  he  acted  as  surgeon, 
for  he  said  he  wanted  only  a  very  little  amputated  "  to 
begin  with."  After  calculating  very  nicely  where  to 
strike,  Johnny  raised  the  cleaver  ;  at  the  same  moment 
the  butchers  shoved  the  dog  along,  so  that  when  the 
knife  had  fallen,  the  poor  man  found  that  he  had  severed 
his  cur  in  twain,  whereupon  he  protested,  in  perfect  dis 
may,  that  "  it  was  a  little  too  short,  by  a  d — d  sight!" 


"  SOMEBODY  IN  MY  BED  I" 

BY   W.    J.    JONES,    ESQ.,    OF   HARRISBURG,    PA. 

We  are  not  quite  sure  we  have  given  Mr.  Ps.  address  correctly, 
but  never  mind,  he  may  be  a  relative  of  that  Hamilton  C. 
Jones,  Esq.,  of  North  Carolina,  whose  story  of  "  Cousin 
Sally  Billiard"  has  for  the  twentieth  time  gone  the  rounds  of 
the  press.  At  any  rate  he  sent  the  sketch  below  to  the 
"  Spirit  of  the  Times"  from  Harrisburg,  with  a  promise  to  be 
come  an  occasional  contributor — a  promise  which  he  has 
incontinently  forgotten,  to  the  great  regret  and  mortification  of 
the  editor  thereof  and  some  tens  of  thousands  of  its  readers. 

A  WEEK  or  two  ago,  during  my  peregrinations  through 
northern  Pennsylvania,  spreading  knowledge  among 
the  denizens  thereof,  (I  sell  books!)  I  "just  dropt  in" 
at  a  comfortable-looking  inn,  where  I  concluded  to  re 
main  for  a  day  or  two.  After  a  good  substantial  supper, 
I  lit  a  "  York  County  Principe,"  (the  like  of  which  sell 
in  these  regions  at  the  rate  of  four  for  a  penny,)  and 
seated  myself  in  the  ring  formed  around  the  bar-room 
stove.  There  was  the  brawny  butcher,  the  effeminate 
tailor,  a  Yankee  fidler,  two  horse  dealers,  a  speculator,  a 
blackleg,  the  village  Esculapius,  and  "  the  Captain," 
who,  in  consequence  of  being  able  to  live  on  his  means, 
was  a  person  of  no  small  importance,  and  therefore 
allowed  to  sit  before  the  fire-stove  with  the  poker  to 
stir  the  fire — a  mark  of  respect  granted  only  to  persons 
of  standing. 

168  :~.^. 


"  SOMEBODY   IN   MY   BED."  169 

Yarn  after  yarn  had  been  spun  and  the  hour  for  retiring 
had  arrived — the  landlord  was  dosing  behind  his  bar, — 
and  the  spirit  of  the  conversation  was  beginning  to  flag, 
when  the  doctor  whispered  to  me  that  if  I  would  pay 
attention,  he  would  "  top  off"  with  a  good  one. 

"  I  believe,  captain,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  never  told 
you  about  my  adventure  with  a  woman  at  my  boarding 
house,  when  I  was  attending  the  lecture." 

"  No,  let's  have  it,"  replied  the  individual  addressed, 
who  was  a  short,  flabby,  fat  man  of  about  fifty,  with  a 
highly  nervous  temperament,  and  a  very  red  face. 

"  At  the  time  I  attended  the  lectures,  I  boarded  at  a 
house  in  which  there  were  no  females,  but  the  landlady 
and  an  old  coloured  cook " 

(Here  the  doctor  made  a  slight  pause,  and  the  cap 
tain,  by  way  of  requesting  him  to  go  on,  said  "  Well.") 

"  I  often  felt  the  want  of  female  society  to  soften  the 
severe  labours  of  deep  study,  and  dispel  the  ennui  to 
which  I  was  subject " 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain. 

"  But  as  I  feared  that  forming  acquaintances  among 
the  ladies  might  interfere  with  my  studies,  I  avoided 
them  all " 

«  Well." 

"  One  evening  after  listening  to  a  long  lecture  on 
physical  anatomy,  and  after  dissecting  a  large  negro, 
fatigued  in  body  and  mind,  I  went  to  my  lodgings " 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain. 

"  I  went  into  the  hall,  took  a  large  lamp,  and  went 
directly  to  my  room,  it  being  then  after  one  o'clock- " 

"Well!" 

"  I  placed  the  light  upon  the  table,  and  commenced 


170  "  SOMEBODY   IN   MY   BED." 

undressing.  I  had  hardly  got  my  coat  off  when  my 
attention  was  attracted  to  a  frock,  and  a  quantity  of 
petticoats  lying  on  a  chair  near  the  bed " 

"  Well !"  said  the  captain,  who  began  to  show  signs 
that  he  was  getting  deeply  interested. 

"  And  a  pair  of  beautiful  small  shoes  and  stockings 
on  the  floor.  Of  course  I  thought  it  strange,  and  was 
about  to  retire — but  then  I  thought  as  it  was  my  room, 
I  had  at  least  a  right  to  know  who  was  in  my  bed " 

"  Exactly,"  nodded  the  captain,  "  well !" 

u  So  I  took  the  light,  went  softly  to  the  bed,  and 
with  a  trembling  hand  drew  aside  the  curtain.  Heavens! 
what  a  sight !  A  young  girl — I  should  say  an  angel, 
of  about  eighteen,  was  in  there  asleep •" 

"  Well !"  said  the  captain,  giving  his  chair  a  hitch. 

"  As  I  gazed  upon  her,  I  thought  that  I  had  never 
witnessed  any  thing  more  beautiful.  From  underneath 
a  little  night-cap,  rivalling  the  snow  in  whiteness,  fell 
a  stray  ringlet  over  a  neck  and  shoulders  of  ala 
baster " 

"  Well !"  said  the  excited  captain,  giving  his  chair 
another  hitch. 

"  Never  did  I  look  upon  a  bust  more  perfectly 
formed.  I  took  hold  of  the  coverlid  and  softly  pulled 
it  down " 

"  Well !"  said  the  captain,  betraying  the  utmost 
excitement. 

"  To  her  waist " 

"  Well!!"  said  the  captain,  dropping  the  paper,  and 
renewing  the  position  of  his  legs. 

"  She  had  on  a  night  dress,  buttoned  up  before,  but 
softly  I  opened  the  two  first  buttons " 


"  SOMEBODY    IN    MY    BED."  171 

"  WELL  ! ! !"  said  the  captain,  wrought  to  the  highest 
pitch  of  excitement. 

"And  then,  ye  gods!  what  a  sight  to  gaze  upon— 
a  Hebe — pshaw !  words  fail.  Just  then " 

"WELL!!!!"  said  the  captain,  hitching  his  chair 
right  and  left,  and  squirting  his  tobacco  juice  against  the 
stove  that  it  fairly  fizzed  again. 

"  I  thought  that  I  was  taking  a  mean  advantage  of 
her,  so  I  covered  her  up,  Seized  my  coat  and  boots, 
and  went  and  slept  in  another  room  !" 

"  IPs  a  lie!"  shouted  the  excited  captain,  jumping 
up  and  kicking  over  his  chair.  "  IT'S  A  LIE  !" 


A  DAY  AT  SOL.  SLICE'S, 

• 
BY  "NAT.  SLOCUM,"  OF  SOUTH  CAROLINA. 

We  would  "  give  all  our  old  clothes"  and  a  new  suit  to  boot,  to 
shake  hands  with  the  writer  of  the  sketch  subjoined.  Who 
he  is,  we  doubt  if  "  the  oldest  inhabitant"  of  Carolina  can 
tell ;  certainly  we  have  forgotten  if  we  ever  knew,  but  if  we 
ever  should  be  fortunate  enough  to  meet  him,  if  he  does  not 
"  touch  knees  with  us  under  mahogany"  it  shall  not  be  our 
fault 

SHORTLY  after  my  election,  in  183-,  I  attended  a 
review  held  at  "  Slice's  Muster  Ground."  Before 
mounting  my  charger,  I  observed,  tacked  to  a  tree  near 
me,  a  sheet  of  foolscap  paper,  on  which  was  written,  in 
letters  of  nearly  an  inch,  the  following : — 

Dinner  kin  be  had  On  the  FoLLowin  Turns  at  my 
HousE  to  Day  privSs  thirty  seven  cents  non  comeishund 
ophisers  25  comeishund  frEE  i  want  you  awl  to  ete 
dancin  to  beGin  at  won  erclock  awl  them  what  dont 
wish  to  kevort  will  finD  cards  on  the  shelf  in  the 
cubberd  $&•  licker  On  the  uzual  Turns 

SOLOMON  SLICE. 
172 


173 

I  had,  by  hard  study,  deciphered  this  fancy  piece  of 
handicraft,  when  old  Slice  came  up. 

"Aha,  kunnel,  I  see  the  'lection  haint  spiled  you; 
you  cares  more  for  yer  belly  than  you  does  for  them 
muster  fellows  yit." 

I  assured  him  I  did. 

"  Well,  could  you  make  it  out  ?  Some  of  them  un- 
larnt  fellers,  Joe  Smith,  Tim  Daly,  and  Bill  Lever,  the 
ugly  son  of  a  gun,  'lowed  they  didn't  know  what  it 
was!  Tim  sed  he  reckined  the  old  gobler  must  'ave 
trod  in  the  ink !  Now,  I  don't  see  nothin'  agin  them 
letters.  To  be  sure,  that  D  is  sot  a  leetle  too  forred ; 
but  the  balance  is  as  good  as  anybody  kin  do.  I 
writ  it  big,  so,  as  Scriptur'  says,  them  what  runs  kin 
read." 

"But  why,  Slice,  do  you  make  such  difference  in 
your  charges  ?" 

"  Well,  see  here,  kunnel,  it  don't  much  matter  to  me 
ef  them  privates  don't  come  ;  but  it  is  some  credit  to 
have  fellers  with  eppletts  on  a  settin'  up  to  my  vittles, 
and  ef  I  do  make  a  leetle  sommat  at  the  licker  busness, 
it's  you  officers  what  has  the  muster  here — so  I  gives 
you  free  sea&." 

I  determined  to  be  one  of  his  guests  that  day,  as  I 
had  heard  he  entertained  well.  So  after  parade  I  made 
my  way  back  to  Slice's,  and  found  I  was  not  a  moment 
too  early :  dinner  was  already  on  a  table  spread  in  the 
yard.  As  I  came  up,  old  Sol.  mounted  the  table,  and 
cried  out — at  the  same  time  waving  a  dirty  dishcloth 
above  his  head — "Oh  yis,  gentlemen/  Oh  yis!  din 
ner's  reddy!  Come,  awl  of  yer." 


174 

Fortune  gave  me  a  seat  near  Bill  Lever,  than  whom 
it  would  be  impossible  to  imagine  a  worse-looking  or 
better-natured  fellow.  To  attempt  a  description  of  him 
would  be  to  make  a  failure.  His  face  can  bid  defiance 
to  the  brush  and  palette  of  the  best  artist.  On  my  right 
sat  Tim  Daly,  "  his  shadder."  Then  began  the  clatter 
of  knives  and  forks,  interspersed  with  loud  orders  for 
"  vittles."  "  More  bread,  here!"  "  Sol.,  you  skunk, 
bring  that  mutton  here!"  "  Beef,  beef,  BEEF!"  from  a 
burly  old  fellow,  who  was  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  his 
eyes  shut  tight,  and  mouth  like  a  young  mocking-bird. 
"  Pass  them  taturs  down  this  way,  Uncle  Slice — thaVs 
you ;"  and  squealed  out  a  little  sallow-faced  sandlapper 
— "  More  cowcumbers  at  this  place  !" 

Old  Sol.  Slice  was  raised  now.  "  You  infernal  cop 
per-coloured  sneak !  jist  get  rite  up  from  that  table ! 
You  set  there  and  holler  as  ef  you  paid  fur  yer  dinner, 
'stead  of  some  pusson  giving  it  to  you !  Jist  hist,  and 
take  yourself  ofF  to  that  clay  bank  down  thar !  You 
wont  be '  so  much  outen  yer  element  thar,  I  reckin ! 
Will  you  go, you  ?" 

Cowcumber  sloped. 

"  Is  them  your  turns,  Slice  ?"  inquired  Daly ;  "  1 
thought  the  turkey  writ  out — I  want  you  awl  to  ete." 

"  D — n  you  and  the  gobler  too — I  want  awl  to  ete, 
but  dgrned  ef  he's  to  ete  awl !  He's  ete  three  plates  of 
cowcumbers  a'reddy." 

"  Uncle  Sol.,"  now  put  in  Lever,  "  don't  you  see  yer 
bill  is  wrong  ?  Now  take  my  advice  and  have  it  altered 
by  next  mustering  day ;  and  I  reckon  you  had  better 
begin  it  this  evenin',  for  you  know  it's  a  mity  teedjus 
job." 


175 

"  You  ugly  son  of  a  gun!"  muttered  old  Sol.,  going 
off — "  yer  mother  ought  to  'ave  been  ashamed  of  herself 
to  'ave  had  you ;  but,  poor  creetur,  I  reckin  she  couldn't 
help  it." 

"  Mr.  Lever,"  I  asked,  "  why  do  these  people  always 
speak  of  you  as  '  ugly  Bill  Lever  ?'  You  do  not  think 
yourself  bad-looking,  do  you  ?" 

"Well,  kunnel,  I  used  to  blieve  I  was  only  toloble 
good-looking,  and  remained  in  that  blissful  ignunce 
twell  I  was  proved  to  be  the  ugliest  man  in  all  Charles 
ton  :  and  sence  that,  ef  thar  are  anything  that  I  humps 
myself  on,  it's  my  ugly." 

"Proven  to  be  the  worst-looking  man — how  was 
that?  Tell  me." 

"  I  never  said  wost-lookin — I  sed  ugliest — wost- 
lookin,  the  devil !  Well,  I  went  to  Charleston,  with 
brother  Lije  Lever — he's  one  of  yer  wost-lookin  fel 
lers — I'm  ugly.  As  I  was  sayin',  I  went  to  town 
with  him;  we  tuck  a  load  of  poultry — we  made  a 
right  nice  spec  that  trip,  too.  Well,  arter  we  had  laid 
in  some  shugar,  and  coffee,  and  some  necessaries,  we 
was " 

"  Stop  !"  interrupted  Daly.  "  What  do  you  mean  by 
necessaries  ?" 

"  Licker." 

"  I  thought  so — go  on." 

"  Well,  arter  gitting  them  things,  we  started  for  home. 
As  we  was  comin'  up  King  Street " 

" Stop  !"  •  again  interrupted  Daly.  "Who  was 
drivin'?"  .- 

"Brother  Lije." 


176  A  DAT  AT  801,, 

"  Aha,  and  you  was  in  the  waft*  00  top  the  bar9},  99 


"  I  was  in  the  waggin.  Ef  you  don't  bush,  Tim,  I'll 
qait.  We  had  got  a  matter  of  about  half-way  tip  the 
•tivet,  when  a  dandy,  dressed  hi  the  hite  of  fashun,  and 

mounted    "?>    n    M"  "I    JMV    li"^,    r,un^    r.m^nn 

ahead  of  us.     All  at  wnnst  he  drawed  up  by  the 
nf  f.ije,  and  ses  he,  '  I're  found  him  at  la**9 

"•Found  what?  se«  Lije, 

11  •  Why,'  ses?  the  dandy,  •  I'll  bet  you  ten  dollar*  you 
are  the  ugliest  man  in  Charleston/ 

11  &*  Lije,  rery  coolly,  sea  he,  '  I  nrret  b«ts,  mistet  ; 
hut  I'm  not  desertin*  of  that  booottr  ;  I'll  show  you 
what  is  ;'  and  turning  in  his  saddle  towards  me,  '  Poke 
yer  head  out,  Billy,'  sea  he.  No  aootter  Mid  than  done  : 
I  histrd  the  waggin-sheet,  and  looked  oat  on  him.  I 
lit  a  fellef  so  sot  hack!  There  he  stood  a 
'  at  A»-4  &OMght  he  was  diiliiipud.  At  last, 
romin'  too  a  little,  be  <?^z  to  me,  '  You  need  not  git  oat, 
toy  friend—  yottf/m*  is  sufficient  to  convince  me.  And, 
though  you  didn't  bet,'  sez  he,  turnin'  to  Lije,  «  I  think 
yoa  fully  deserre  the  ten.  Here  it  is,  I  thank  yoa, 
gentli  m«  ".  f  ..-  (fc  |BJ  |(  ^  •h-.t  |p0  Bjg  gym  |  ,  /.  ; 
upon.  Good  mornin'  ;'  and  he  fode  off." 

Here  Lever  ceased  speaking,  and  fell  to  eating  very 
rapidly,  as  if  he  wisbtd  10  make  ftp  for  lost  timt, 

11  Why  don't  you  go  cm,  Bill,  and  tell  the  kunnel 
about  the  balance  of  that  trip  ?"  inquired  Tim  Daly, 

11  'Cause  yoa  kin  do  it  as  well  a«  me,  and  I've  got  to 
the  innard  man  now/1 

"Kunnel,  Bill  don't  like  to  tell  this,  for  rf  far  art 


>AY    AT   SOL.  »UCr.'ft.  177 

hisself  on  ferwfe*  t/#/y,  it  is  his  man 
ners  among  the  fimmales,  and  I'll  say  it  here  before  him  ; 
he  does  please  the  gals  fust  rate.  A  grate  beau  is  Bill. 
The  day  he  left  Charleston  he  dipped  inter  that  gin 
bar'l  putty  freekwent,  in  konsequence  of  which  he 
was,  as  one  might  say,  travellin'  incogniter  all  that 
evening. 

"Well,  next  morning  he  wanted  warter  the  worst 
sort ;  so  the  fust  house  he  comes  to,  he  goes  up  to  the 
gate,  and  hollered, 'Keep*  fcivse''  A  tail  man  come 
out  and  wanted  to  know  his  will.  Then  it  was  he 
stared.  Did  you  ever  see  a  greenhorn  at  a  animal 
show  ?  Ef  you  has,  then  you  kin  have  some  idear  of 
the  look  he  give  Bill. 

"  '  Could  a  body  git  some  warter,  ef  yon  please  ?' 

"  The  man  stared  afresh — so  Bill  began  opening  the 
gate. 

" « Stop,  for  heaven's  sake,'  sez  the^an  ;  <  I'll  have 
it  brought  to  you. — Don't  come  in — my  wife  is  in  a 
very  delicut  way,  and  the  frite  might  cause  a  flustra- 
tion.'" 

"That's  a  durned  lie,"  shouted  Lever.  "Come, 
boys,  let's  go  in  among  the  gals — I  hear  the  fiddle." 

We  then  adjourned  to  the  "  ball-room,"  which  we 
found  crowded  with  dancers  already  on  the  floor. 

"  Come,  kunnel,"  said  Slice,  "  here  is  Miss  Patsey 
Jaggers,  jest  from  town,  and  the  best  dancer  in  the 
room  :  let  me  interduce  you." 

Sol.  took  my  arm — led  me  across  the  room — and,  in 
all  due  form,  presented  me.  I  made  my  congee,  and 
solicited  the  "  exquisite  pleasure,  the  ecstatic  delight,'* 


178 

&c.,  which  she  readily  promised.  We  conversed  about 
"  town"  and  the  people  with  whom  she  had  there  be 
come  acquainted.  I  found  her  much  more  intelligent 
than  the  girls  one  generally  meets  at  such  places. 

"  Take  dem  pardners,  gemplemen,"  sung  out  Long 
Ben,  an  old  negro,  who  had  fiddled  for  that  "  beat"  for 
the  last  quarter  of  a  century.  I  immediately  led  out 
Miss  Patsey  Jaggers,  intending  to  take  the  "head." 

"  Col.  Slokurn,"  said  she,  "  I  see  it  is  well  for  you 
I  came  to-day ;  I  know  these  people  well.  They  do 
not  like  strangers  to  take,  what  they  call,  liberties — it 
would  be  better,  therefore,  that  we  should  be  second, 
rather  than  first,  in  this  reel ;  and  you  need  not  be  very 
precise  in  your  steps;  but  if  you  know  any  negro 
dances,  fire  away  at  them !" 

When  a  boy,  the  negroes,  at  their  frolics  on  my  fa 
ther's  plantation,  had  initiated  me  into  all  the  "  sleights" 
of  which  their  jj^rican  legs  were  capable ;  and  on  this 
day  they  stood  me  a  good  turn.  When  my  time  came, 
therefore,  I  took  "  a  hop,  skip,  and  a  jump  "  towards 
my  partner,  "  racked  back  on  my  hind  feet  a  little,"  then 
commenced  "  the  double  shuffle,"  "  pigeon- wing  on  the 
floor,"  "de  same  in  de  ar,"  "Pete  Jonson's  knock," 
"the  under  elects,"  and  other  refined  steps,  "too  nu 
merous  to  mention;"  and  finally  finished  off  on  "old 
trimble  toes  " — a  rare  and  difficult  movement. — I  saw 
that  I  had  succeeded,  for  shouts  of  applause  for  "the 
kunnel "  came  from  all  quarters  of  the  room.  "  Go  it, 
kunnel ;  you're  a  trump  !"  "  Look  at  him,  Jake  ! 
what  do  you  think  of  that  ?"  "  Why,  the  man  hain't 
a  bone  in  him!"  "He  stands  back  on  his  hind  feet 
like  a  venison."  "  I  wish  I  had  him  in  my  barn  ;  he'd 


179 

tramp  out  wheat  nice" — and  such  other  comments 
caused  me  to  hold  high  my  haughty  head. 

"  Bill,  now  it's  yertime,"  said  our  beef  man.  "  You 
are  allers  good,  but  I  has  a  faint  idear  that  you  has 
here  met  yer  ekal." 

"  Two  to  one  on  that,"  squealed  out  Cowcumber. 
"  I  knows  Bill  well,  and  I'll  go  you  an  independent  on 
his  beating  yon  feller  bad." 

Lever  now  began,  with  a  smile  on  his  ugly  counte 
nance,  and — to  my  mortification — went  through  every 
movement  of  mine  with  tnore  ease  ;  and  in  "  casting 
off'"  he  even  introduced  a  new  step,  which  would  be 
as  difficult  to  describe  as  to  perform.  He  called  it  the 
windin  blades. 

"  Never  care,  Col.,"  said  my  partner;  "after  this 
reel,  we  will  risk  a  waltz  together :  and  my  word  for  it, 
you  will  yet  win." 

The  truth  is,  I  did  feel  miserable,  and  was  impatient 
to  get  through. — Immediately,  therefore,  after  the  others 
had  taken  their  seats,  I  asked  Long  Ben  to  play  a 
waltz.  By  a  lucky  chance  he  once  had  learned  one : 
and,  as  he  drew  his  bow,  I  started  off  with  my  partner. 
Round  and  around  we  went,  to  the  astonishment  of  all, 
they  never  having  witnessed  any  thing  of  the  kind. 
Miss  Patsey  was  a  fine  mover,  and  really  one  of  the 
most  graceful  waltzers  I  have  ever  seen.  As  for  my 
self,  I  was  delighted  with  the  ease  and  action  I  displayed 
on  that  occasion. 

"  Do  not  let  it  become  too  common,"  whispered  my 
fair  one.  I  conducted  her  to  a  chair,  now  perfectly  sa 
tisfied  with  my  success. 


180 

"Dem  is  de  best  dat  ever  happunt  in  dis  beat,"  said 
Long  Ben. 

"  Kunnel,  you've  won,"  said  Lever,  with  a  hang 
dog  expression  of  countenance  ;  "  but  Pm  one  what 
never  yit  did  give  up  in  a  dance,  of  any  kind :  so,  if  I 
kin  git  a  gal,  I'll  try  that  lick." 

After  some  persuasion  he  "  got  a  gal,"  and,  calling 
on  old  Ben  to  "  scrape  them  cat  entrails,"  made  an  at 
tempt,  but  found  they  could  not  get  off.  It  was  some 
thing  like  two  unbroken  colts  when  first  put  in  harness ; 
they  could  not  start  together.  At  last  Bill  bellowed 
ou* — "  Here's  what  never  baulks,"  and  began  to  turn, 
pulling  her  after  him.  About  the  third  evolution  of  this 
kind,  the  gal's  feet  parted  company  with  the  floor,  and 
lifted  themselves  upon  a  level  with  her  head.  I  only 
saw  a  red  petticoat,  and — being  a  modest  man — turned 
my  back  upon  this  "  pair  of  revolvers."  I  could  not, 
however,  stop  my  ears  from  the  remarks  of  the  old 
woman. 

"  Ok,  my  Lord !"  shrieked  old  Mrs.  Spraggs,  "  that's 
too  bad,  to  have  a  feller-creatur's  legs  a  flyin'  in  that 
stile." 

"  Yes,"  was  the  observation  of  that  spiteful  old 
maid,  Miss  Jemima  Clipps,  "  purticularly  ef  the  feller- 
creetur's  legs  happun  to  be  crooked.  I  would  advise 
all  you  young  gals  to  look  at  yer  legs  before  you  un 
dertake  anything  you  ain't  used  to.  Crooked  legs  is 
mity  bad  in  them  turnin'  dances." 

I  knew,  from  the  noise  behind  me,  that  Bill  was 
"  keeping  even  along  ;"  when  suddenly  the  noise  was 
increased  a  thousand-fold ;  and  on  old  Mrs.  Spraggs 
exclaiming  "thar,"  I  turned  in  time  to  see  Lever 


A    DAY   AT    SOL.    SLICE'S.  181 

stretched  on  the  floor,  and  his  gal  just  <c settling  upon 
him."  Old  Mrs.  Spraggs, — kind-hearted  old  soul — ran 
to  her  assistance,  and  while  picking  her  up  whispered,  as 
all  old  ladies  do,  so  as  to  be  heard  by  all — "  Git  up, 
Sail,  all  these  fellers  couldn't  a  seed  more  ef  you  was 
married  to  'em  all."  The  "  gall "  arose  to  her  feet, 
dealing  blows,  right  and  left,  upon  poor  Bill — "  Take 
that,  and  that,  for  histin'  me  up  before  all  these  people, 
you  onmannerly,  ugly  piece  of  deformity." 

"  I  beg  pardon,  Sail,"  pleaded  Lever,  "  I  couldn't 
help  it — I  wouldn't  a  done  it  ef  I  had  knowed !  you 
knows  I  was  on  this  eend  of  you  and  couldn't  see 
nuthin'." 

The  Amazon  became  doubly  enraged  at  this,  and 
raising  a  chair,  she  threw  it  at  Lever  with  such  force, 
that,  had  it  done  its  errand,  would  have  given  him  his 
quietus.  He  adroitly  avoided  it,  however,  and  escaped 
through  the  door.  She  seemed  perfectly  satisfied  with 
this  manly  effort  at  redress ;  and  in  a  short  time  looked 
as  if  nothing  had  happened  to  disturb  her  peace  of 
mind. 

Going  into  an  adjoining  room,  I  found  Tim  Daly 
playing  "  old  Sledge  "  with  Cowcumber — five  cents  a 
game.  Fortune  seemed  to  have  favoured  the  sand-lap- 
per,  if  one  might  judge  from  the  number  of  pieces  at 
his  elbow.  I  stayed  to  watch  the  game.  After  a  few 
deals  the  luck  turned.  Cowcumber  lost  two  or  three 
games,  when,  suddenly  pressing  both  his  hands  upon 
his  stomach,  he  emitted  some  of  the  most  piteous  groans 
that  ever  came  from  the  breast  of  man. 

"  Aha,  old  feller,  you  want  to  come  that  same  old 
game  on  me,  do  you  ?" 
M 


182  A   DAY    AT    SOL.    SLICE'S. 

"  Oh,  but,  Tim,  do  let  me  go,  now,  I'll  be  back  di 
rectly.  I  tuckt  some  ile  this  mornin',  and  that  must  be 
attended  to."  ' •  V 

"  No,  I  tell  you,  sir,  ile  or  no  ile,  I  don't  kere  what 
you  do  with  yourself — thar  you  sets  twell  /  say  you  kin 
git  up  ;  and  I  needn't  be  so  purticular  in  my  observa 
tions  to  you  as  to  say,  that  won't  be  ontwell  all  that 
pile  comes  back  inter  my  hands.  You've  tricked  me 
before,  and  as  I  know  yer  derned  herrin'  belly  don't 
trouble  you  when  you  are  winnin',  I'm  determined  it 
shan't  pester  you  when  yer  loosing." 

Tim  made  good  his  word ;  in  half  an  hour  he  had 
won  it  all,  and  that  without  an  accident. 

Thus  the  day  was  passed,  in  dancing,  drinking,  card- 
playing,  and  fighting.  One  "  engagement "  may  be 
mentioned.  It  was  not  fought  on  that  day,  however, 
but  spoken  of  by  "  our  beef-man." 

About  twelve  o'clock  that  night,  he,  together  with 
two  or  three  others,  might  have  been  seen  seated  on  the 
staircase.  Cowcumber  was  among  their  number. 
They  seemed  to  have  had  a  "  war  talk." 

"  Talking  about  fightin',"  says  Beef,  "  aminds  me 
of  a  engagement  what  tuck  place  atween  Joe  Hum 
phries  and  Sam  Higgins  once.  I  ain't  a  goying  to  tell 
you  'nother  quarrel — that  would  take  too  long  a  time  : 
they  was  at  it  two  years  therseffs.  Findally,  howsome- 
dever,  they  yoked  at  Spartinbug  Court  House.  Now, 
you  what  hain't  the  fttintest  idear  of  what  fightin'  is, 
won't  b'lieve  what  I'm  bout  to  worate.  But,  as  I  was 
a  savin',  they  yoked,  and  they  fit,  and  they  fit,  and  I  do 
reckin,  in  all  their  backin's  and  forrerdin's  they  kivered 
nigh  two  acres  of  ground.  Hit  was  floatin'  in  blood  ! 


183 

You  might  a  githered  a  half  a  gallon  of  years,  and 
thumbs,  and  fingers,  and  noses !  They  would  bite 
pieces  outen  one  another  and  spit  'em  out  agin,  and 
take  a  fresh  holt,  and  when  they  let  that  go  the  piece 
would  be  in  ther  mouth.  They  had  been  fitin'  one 
solid  hour,  when  I  got  sick  and  quit  the  field." 

"  Which  whoopt,"  inquired  Cowcumber. 

"  I  don't  know,  I  left  'em  fightin' !  the  last  I  beared 
from  thar  they  was  fightin',  and  I  do  reckin  ther  at  it 
yet — its  a  vinemous  fite."  '* 

"  Who  is  Ae,"  I  asked  of  Lever. 

"Why,  that's  Jack  Woodruff—  he's  the  derndesl, 
biggest,  onremittentest  liar  %>m  Charleston  tc  &« 
mountings !' 


CUPPING  ON  THE  STERNUM. 

BY   H.  C.  L.,  OF  MISSISSIPPI. 

A  n'ew-fledged  disciple  of  ^Esculapius  is  the  writer  of  the  fol 
lowing  sketch,  in  winch  is  displayed,  in  bold  relief,  one  of 
"  the  ills  which  flesh  is  heir  to,"  when  subjected  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  inexperienced  medical  practitioners.  As  H.  C.  L., 
like  "  The  Razor-Strop-^an,"  has  "  a  few  more  left,  of  the 
same  sort,"  we  trust  when  he  reads  this  paragraph  he  will 
forthwith  set  to  work  and  give  us  some  more  extracts  from 
"  The  Diary  of  a  Young  Physician." 

I  HAD  been  a  student  of  medicine  about  three  weeks, 
and  had  got  as  far  as  cupping,  cathartics,  and  castor  oil, 
in  the  noble  science  of  physic,  when,  as  I  was  sitting  in 
the  office,  investigating  by  induction  the  medicinal  pro 
perties  of  a  jar  of  tamarinds,  I  received  a  note  from  my 
preceptor  which  ran  thus : — 

"  Mr.  L. — You  will  please  take  the  large  cups  and 
scarificator,  together  with  a  large  blister,  up  to  Mr.  J., 
and  cup  his  negro  girl  Chaney  very  freely  over  the 
sternum  ;  after  you  have  cupped  her,  apply  the  blister 
over  the  same,  as  she  has  inflammation  of  the  lungs." 

In  anatomy,  the  sternum  is  that  portion  of  the  osseous 

system   known   in   common   parlance   as  the  "  breast 

bone,"  but  at  that  time  I  was  ignorant  of  the  fact.     I 

had  not  studied  anatomy,  and  in  my  ignorance  and  sim- 

184 


CUPPING   ON   THE    STERNUM.  185 

plicity  of  heart,  imagined  that  the  doctor  wanted  her  to 
be  cupped  and  blistered  "  a  posteriori,"  or  in  other 
words,  over  the  "  seat,"  and  that  he  had  put  the  "urn" 
to  the  "  stern"  in  the  note,  merely  for  sport,  or,  it  might 
have  been  the  Latin  termination  of  the  word  "  stern." 
Filled  with  a  sense  of  the  delicacy  and  momentous 
import  of  my  duty,  I  provided  myself  with  the  neces 
saries,  and  proceeded  to  cup  Chaney  on  the  sternum. 

By  way  of  parenthesis,  let  me  create  an  idea  of  my 
patient,  so  that  you  may  appreciate  the  field  of -my 
operation. 

Just  imagine  a  butcher's  block  five  feet  long  and  four 
feet  through  at  the  butt,  converted  into  a  fat  bouncing 
negro  wench,  with  smaller  blocks  appended  for  limbs, 
and  you  will  have  a  faint  conception  of  the  figure  and 
proportions  of  the  delectable  portion  of  humanity  upon 
whom  my  curative  capabilities  were  to  be  exhibited. 

"  How  are  you  to-day,  Chaney  ?"  said  I,  as  entering 
the  cabin  of  my  patient,  I  stood  before  her. 

"  Oh,  massa  young  doctor,"  said  she,  "  I  does  feel 
'mazing  bad — the  mis'ry  in  my  bosom  almost  broke  ' 
my  heart ;  I  can  scasely  perspere,"  (re-spire,  I  suppose 
she  meant,  as,  judging  from  the  big  drops  which,  like 
ebony  beads,  chased  each  other  down  her  gleaming 
nec^,  I  thought  that  she  perspired  beautifully.) 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  it,  Chaney ;  the  doctor  has 
sent  me  up  here  to  cup  and  blister  you,  and  I  hope  it 
will  relieve  you  entirely." 

"  Well,  the  Lord's  will  and  the  doctor's  be  done ; 
this  anguished  sister  be's  ready" — and  she  proceeded 
to  divest  her  bosom  of  its  concealments,  thinking  that 
she  had  to  be  cupped  over  the  seat  of  the  pain  ;  but  it 


186  CUPPING   ON    THE    STERNUM. 

was  a  different  seat  than  that,  which  my  cups  were  des 
tined  to  exhaust  the  atmosphere  from. 

"  Stop,  Chaney,  I  was  not  told  to  cup  you  on  the 
breast,  but  on  the  sternum,  so  you'll  haye  to  turn  over!" 

"  What !"  shrieked  she,  rising  straight  up  in  the  bed, 
a  great  deal  whiter  in  the  face  than  she  had  been  for 
many  a  day;  "you  cup  me  on  de  starn!  Massa 
young  doctor,  tell  me,  for  de  lub  of  prostituted  'manity, 
is  you  in  airnest?  Oh  no,  certainly,  you  is  just  joking 
— just  making  'musement  of  de  'stresses  of  dis  female !" 

"  No,  Chaney,  there  is  no  mistake.  The  doctor  says 
you  must  be  cupped  there,  and  it  must  and  shall  be 
done,  so  get  ready." 

"  Oh,  massa  doctor,  you  must  be  mistaken — you  must 
indeed!  De  pain  no  dere,  but  in  my  breast!  How 
cupping  dere  goin'  cure  pain  in  de  breast,  eh  ?  Tell 
medat!" 

"  Well,  Chaney,  I  don't  know  that  I  can  do  that, 
exactly,  but  I  suppose  it  will  be  by  sympathy.  You 
know  the  stern  and  the  bosom  are  not  many  feet  apart. 
Any  hoWj  I  am  going  to  cup  you  there,  if  I  have  to  call 
in  help,  so  you  had  better  consent." 

Chaney,  seeing  that  there  was  no  retreat,  agreed  at 
last  to  the  operation.  Click!  click!  went  the  scarifica- 
tor,  and  amidst  the  shouts  of  the  patient  and  my  awful 
solicitude  for  fear  I  might  cut  an  artery,  the  "  deed  was 
did."  But  no  blood  flowed,  nothing  but  grease,  which 
trickled  out  slowly  like  molasses  out  of  a  worm  hole. 
I  saw  that  the  cups  were  too  infatuated  to  draw  blood 
from  that  quarter,  so  I  removed  them  and  applied  the 
blister,  and  I  expect  fly-ointment  was  in  demand  about 
that  time. 


CUPPING    ON    THE    STERNUM.  187 

When  the  doctor  returned,  after  an  absence  of  seve 
ral  hours,  he  found  the  patient  entirely  relieved,  and  a 
blister  drawn  with  about  a  tubful  of  water  in  its  interior. 
I  reckon  she  used  chairs  mighty  little  for  a  few  weeks, 
and  she  hated  the  idea  of  the  operation  so  bad  that  she 
burnt  up  a  bran  new  dress  just  because  it  was  fombazine, 
and  reminded  her,  by  the  first  syllable,  of  the  seat-  of 
"  Cupping  on  the  Sternum." 


A  BEAR  STORY, 

BY  THE  LATE  WM.  P.  HAWES,  ESQ.,  OF  NEW  YORK. 

We  have  in  a  previous  page  alluded  to  the  popularity  of  the 
author  of  the  following  story,  as  a  humorous  prose  writer. 
Any  article  over  the  signature  of  "  J.  Cypress,  jr.,"  was  re 
garded  with  as  much  interest  as  that  of  "  Boz."  The  follow 
ing  sketch  gives  a  good  idea  of  his  peculiar  style.  We  must 
premise  that  the  scene  of  the  story  annexed  was  a  fishing-hut 
on  Fire  Island,  (a  few  miles  from  Long  Island,)  where  a  select 
sporting  party  were  spending  the  night.  The  conversation 
which  introduces  Venus  Raynor's  story  of  the  bear,  refers  to  the 
"  Shark  Story,"  published  in  previous  pages  of  this  volume. 

"  WHAT  an  infernal  lie !"  growled  Daniel. 

"  Have  my  doubts ;"  suggested  the  somnolent  Peter 
Probasco,  with  all  the  solemnity  of  a  man  who  knows 
his  situation  ;  at  the  same  time  shaking  his  head  and 
spilling  his  liquor. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Ha !  ha !  ha !"  roared  all  the  rest  of 
the  boys  together. 

"  Is  he  done  ?"  asked  Raynor  Rock. 

"How  many  shirks  was  there?"  cried  long  John, 
putting  in  his  unusual  lingual  oar. 

"  That  story  puts  me  in  mind,"  said  Venus  Raynor, 
"  about  what  Pve  heerd  tell  on  Ebenezer  Smith,  at  the 

188 


A    BEAR   STORY.  189 

time  he  went  down  to  the  North  Pole  on  a  walen' 
voyage." 

"  Now  look  out  for  a  screamer,"  laughed  out  Ray  nor 
Rock,  refilling  his  pipe.  "  Stand  by,  Mr.  Cypress,  to 
let  the  sheet  go." 

"Is  there,  any  thing  uncommon  about  that  yarn, 
Venus?" 

"Oncommort!  well,  I  expect  it's  putty  smart  and 
oncommon  for  a  man  to  go  to  sea  with  a  bear,  all  alone, 
on  a  bare  cake  of  ice.  Captain  Smith's  woman  used 
to  say  she  couldn't  bear  to  think  on't." 

"  Tell  us  the  whole  of  that,  Venus,"  said  Ned,— 
"  that  is,  if  it  is  true.  Mine  was — the  whole  of  it, — 
although  Peter  has  his  doubts." 

"  I  can't  tell  it  as  well  as  Zoph  can ;  but  I've  no 
'jections  to  tell  it  my  way,  no  how.  So,  here  goes" — 
that's  great  brandy,  Mr.  Cypress."  There  was  a  gur 
gling  sound  of  "  something-to-take,"  running. 

"  Well,  they  was  down  into  Baffin's  Bay,  or  some 
other  o'  them  cold  Norwegen  bays  at  the  north,  where 
the  rain  freezes  as  it  comes  down,  and  stands  up  in  the 
air,  on  winter  mornens,  like  great  mountens  o'  ice,  all 
in  streaks.  Well,  the  schooner  was  layen  at  anchor, 
and  all  the  hands  was  out  into  the  small  boats^looken 
for  wales, — all  except  the  capting,  who  said  he  wa'ri't 
very  well  that  day.  Well,  he  was  walken  up  and  down, 
on  deck,  smoken  and  thinking,  I  expect,  mostly,  when 
all  of  a  sudden  he  reckoned  he  see  one  o'  them  big 
white  bears — polar  bears,  you  know — big  as  thunder — 
with  long  teeth.  He  reckoned  he  see  one  on  'em 
sclumpen  along  on  a  great  cake  o'  ice,  that  lay  on  the 


190  A    BEAR    STORY. 

leeward  side  of  the  bay,  up  agin  the  bank.  The  old 
capting  wanted  to  kill  one  o'  them  varments  most  won 
derful,  but  he  never  lucked  to  get  a  chance.  Now 
tho',  he  thought,  the  time  had  come  for  him  to  walk 
into  one  on  'em  at  laast,  and  fix  his  mutton  for  him  right. 
So  he  run  forrad  and  lay  hold  onto  a  small  skiff,  that 
was  layen  near  the  forc'stal,  and  run  her  out  and 
launched  her.  Then  he  tuk  a  drink,  and — here's  luck — 
and  put  in  a  stiff  load  of  powder,  a  couple  of  balls, 
and  jumped  in,  and  pulled  away  for  the  ice. 

"  It  waVt  long  'fore  he  got  'cross  the  bay,  for  it  was 
a  narrer  piece  o'  water — not  more  than  haaf  a  mile 
wide — and  then  he  got  out  on  to  the  ice.  It  was  a 
smart  and  large  cake,  and  the  bear  was  'way  down  to 
the  tother  end  on  it,  by  the  edge  o'  the  water.  So,  he 
walked -fust  strut  along',  and  then  when  he  got  putty 
cloast  he  walked  'round  catecorned-like — likes's  if  he 
was  drivin  for  a  plain  plover — so  that  the  bear  would'nt 
think  he  was  comen  arter  him,  and  he  dragged  himself 
along  on  his  hands  and  knees,  low  down,  mostly.  Well, 
the  bear  didn't  seem  to  mind  him  none,  and  he  got  up 
within  'bout  fifty  yards  on  him,  and  then  he  looked  so 
savage  and  big — the  bear  did — that  the  captain  stopped 
and  rested  on  his  knees,  and  put  up  his  gun,  and  he 
was  agoin  to  shoot.  But  just  then  the  bear  turned  round 
and  snuffed  up  the  captin — just  as  one  of  Lif's  hounds 
snuffs  up  an  old  buck,  Mr.  Cypress, — and  begun  to 
walk  towards  him,  slowly  like.  He  come  along,  the 
captin  said,  clump,  clump,  very  slow,  and  made  the  ice 
bend  and  crack  again  under  him,  so  that  the  water  come 
up  and  putty  much  kivered  it  all  over.  Well,  there 


A    BEAR    STORY.  191 

the  captin  was  all  the  time  squat  on  his  knees,  with  his 
gun  pinted,  waiten  for  the  varment  to  come  up,  and  his 
knees  and  legs  was  mighty  cold  by  means  of  the  water 
that  the  bear  riz  on  the  ice  as  I  was  mentionen.  At 
last  the  bear  seemed  to  make  up  his  mind  to  see  how, 
the  captin  would  taste,  and  so  he  left  off  walkin  slow, 
and  started  off  on  a  smart  and  swift  trot,  right  towards 
the  old  man,  with  his  mouth  wide  open,  roaren,  and  his 
tail  sticken  out  stiff.  The  captain  kept  still,  looken  out 
all  the  time  putty  sharp,  I  should  say,  till  the  beast  got 
within  about  ten  yards  on  him,  and  then  he  let  him 
have  it.  He  aimed  right  at  the  fleshy  part  of  his  heart, 
but  the  bear  dodged  at  the  flash,  and  rared  up,  and  the 
balls  went  into  his  two  hind  legs,  just  by  the  jynt,  one 
into  each,  and  broke  the  thigh  bones  smack  off,  so  that 
he  went  right  down  aft,  on  the  ice,  thump,  on  his  hind 
quarters,  with  nothen  standen  but  his  fore  legs,  and  his 
head  riz  up,  a  growlen  at  the  captin.  When  the  old 
man  see  him  down,  and  tryen  to  slide  along  the  ice  to 
get  his  revenge,  likely,  thinks  he  to  himself,  thinks  he,  I 
might  as  well  get  up  and  go  and  cut  that  ere  creter's 
throat.  So  he  tuk  out  his  knife  and  opened  it.  But 
when  he  started  to  get  up,  he  found,  to  his  astonish 
ment,  that  he  was  fruz  fast  to  the  ice.  Don't  laugh : 
it's  a  fact ;  there  an't  no  doubt.  The  water,  you  see, 
had  been  round  him  a  smart  and  long  while,  whilst  he 
was  waiten  for  the  bear,  and  it's  wonderful  cold  in  them 
regions,  as  I  was  sayen,  and  you'll  freeze  in  a  minit  if 
you  don't  keep  moven  about  smartly.  So  the  captin  he 
strained  first  one  leg,  and  then  he  strained  tother,  but 
he  couldn't  move  'em  none.  They  was  both  fruz  fast 


192  A   BEAR    STORY. 

into  the  ice,  about  an  inch  and  a  half  deep,  from  knee 
to  toe,  tight  as  a  Jersey  oyster  perryauger  on  a  mud 
flat  at  low  water.  So  he  laid  down  his  gun,  and  looked 
at  the  bear,  and  doubled  up  his  fists.  '  Come  on,  you 
bloody  varmint,'  says  the  old  man,  as  the  bear  swalloped 
along  on  his  hinder  eend,  comen  at  him.  He  kept 
getten  weaker,  tho',  and  comen  slower  and  slower  all 
the  time,  so  that  at  last,  he  didn't  seem  to  move  none  ; 
and  directly,  when  he'd  got  so  near  that  the  captin 
could  jist  give  him  a  dig  in  the  nose  by  reachen  forrard 
putty  smart  and  far,  the  captin  see  that  the  beast  was 
fruz  fast  too,  nor  he  coudn't  move  a  step  further  forrard 
no  ways.  Then  the  captin  burst  out  a  laughen,  and 
clapped  his  hands  down  on  to  his  thighs,  and  roared. 
The  bear  seemed  to  be  most  onmighty  mad  at  the  old 
man's  fun,  and  set  up  such  a  growlen  that  what  should 
come  to  pass,  but  the  ice  cracks  and  breaks  all  around 
the  captin  and  the  bear,  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and 
the  wind  jist  then  a  shiften,  and  comen  off  shore,  away 
they  floated  on  a  cake  of  ice  about  ten  by  six,  off  to 
sea,  without  the  darned  a  biscot  or  a  quart  o'  liquor  to 
stand  'em  on  the  cruise  !  There  they  sot,  the  bear  and 
the  captin,  just  so  near  that  when  they  both  reached 
forrads,  they  could  jist  about  touch  noses,  and  nother 
one  not  able  to  move  any  part  on  him,  only  excepten 
his  upper  part  and  fore  paws." 

"  By  jolly !  that  was  rather  a  critical  predicament, 
Venus,"  cried  Ned,  buttoning  his  coat.  "  I  should  have 
thought  that  the  captain's  nose  and  ears  and  hands 
would  have  been  frozen  too." 

"  That's  quite  naytr'l  to  suppose,  sir,  but  you  see  the 


A   BEAR   STORY.  193 

bear  kept  him  warm  in  the  upper  parts,  by  being  so 
cloast  to  him,  and  breathen  hard  and  hot  on  the  old 
man  whenever  he  growled  at  him.  Them  polar  bears 
is  wonderful  hardy  animals,  and  has  a  monstrous  deal 
o'  heat  into  'em,  by  means  of  their  bein  able  to  stand 
such  cold  climates,  I  expect.  And  so  the  captin  knowed 
this,  and  whenever  he  felt  chilly,  he  just  tuk  his  ramrod 
and  stirred  up  the  old  rascal,  and  made  him  roar  and 
squeal,  and  then  the  hot  breath  would  come  pouren  out 
all  over  the  captin,  and  made  the  air  quite  moderat  and 
pleasant." 

"Well,  go  on,  Venus.     Take  another  horn  first." 

"  Well,  there  a'nt  much  more  on't.     Off  they  went 

to  sea,  and  sometimes  the  wind  druv  'em  nothe,  and 

then  agin  it  druv  'em  southe,  but  they  went  southe 

mostly ;  and  so  it  went  on  until  they  were  out  about 

three  weeks.     So  at  last,  one  afternoon" 

"  But,  Venus,  stop  :  tell  us,  in  the  name  of  wonder, 
how  did  the  captain  contrive  to  support  life  all  this 
time  ?» 

"  Why,  sir,  to  be  sure,  it  was  a  hard  kind  o'  life  to 
support,  but  a  hardy  man  will  get  used  to  almost" 
"  No,  no  :  what  did  he  eat  ?  what  did  he  feed  on  ?" 
«  O— 0— I'd  liked  to've  skipped  that  ere.  Why, 
sir,  I've  heerd  different  accounts  as  to  that.  Uncle  Obe 
Verity  told  me  he  reckoned  the  captin  cut  off  one  of 
the  bear's  paws,  when  he  lay  stretched  out  asleep,  one 
day,  with  his  jack-knife,  and  sucked  that  for  fodder, 
and  they  say  there's  a  smart  deal  o'  nourishment  in  a 
white  bear's  foot.  But  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  spend 
my  'pinion,  I  should  say  my  old  man's  account  is  the 


194  A   BEAR    STORY. 

lightest,  and  that's — what's  as  follows.  You  see  after 
they'd  been  out  three  days  abouts,  they  begun  to  grow 
kind  o'  hungry,  and  then  they  got  friendly,  for  misery 
loves  company,  you  know  ;  and  the  captin  said  the 
bear  looked  at  him  several  times,  very  sorrowful,  as 
much  as  to  say,  l  Captin,  what  the  devil  shall  we  do?' 
Well,  one  day  they  was  sitten  looken  at  each  other,  with 
the  tears  ready  to  burst  out  o'  their  eyes,  when  all  of  a 
hurry,  somethin  come  floppen  up  out  o'  the  water  onto 
the  ice.  The  captin  looked  and  see  it  was  a  seal.  The 
bear's  eyes  kindled  up  as  he  looked  at  it,  and  then,  the 
captin  said,  he  giv  him  a  wink  to  keep  still.  So  there 
they  sot,  still  as  starch,  till  the  seal  not  thinken  nothin 
o'  them  no  more  nor  if  they  was  dead,  walked  right  up 
between  'em.  Then  slump !  went  down  old  whitey's 
nails  into  the  fish's  flesh,  and  the  captin  run  his  jack- 
knife  into  the  tender  loin.  The  seal  soon  got  his  bitters, 
and  the  captin  cut  a  big  hunk  off  the  tail  eend,  and  put 
it  behind  him,  out  o'  the  bear's  reach,  and  then  he  felt 
smart  and  comfortable,  for  he  had  stores  enough  for  a 
long  cruise,  though  the  bear  couldn't  say  so  much  for 
himself. 

"  Well,  the  bear,  by  course,  soon  run  out  o'  provi 
sions,  and  had  to  put  himself  onto  short  allowance  ;  and 
then  he  begun  to  show  his  natural  temper.  He  first 
stretched  himself  out  as  far  as  he  could  go,  and  tried  to 
hook  the  captin's  piece  o'  seal,  but  when  he  found  he 
couldn't  reach  that,  he  begun  to  blow  and  yell.  Then 
he'd  rare  up  and  roar,  and  try  to  get  himself  clear  from 
the  ice.  But  mostly  he  rared  up  and  roared,  and 
pounded  his  big  paws  and  head  upon  the  ice,  till  by- 


A    BEAR   STORY.  195 

arvl-by  (jist  as  the  captin  said  he  expected)  the  ice 
cracked  in  two  agin,  and  split  right  through  between 
the  bear  and  the  captin  and  there  they  was  on  two 
different  pieces  o'  ice,  the  captin  and  the  bear !  The 
old  man  said  he  raaly  felt  sorry  at  parten  company,  and 
when  the  cake  split  and  separate,  he  cut  off  about  a 
haaf  o'  pound  o'  seal  and  chucked 'it  to  the  bear.  But 
either  because  it  wan't  enough  for  him,  or  else  on  ac 
count  o'  his  feelen  bad  at  the  captin's  goen,  the  beast 
wouldn't  touch  it  to  eat  it,  and  he  laid  it  down,  and 
growled  and  moaned  over  it  quite  pitiful.  Well,  oft 
they  went,  one  one  way,  and  t'other  'nother  way,  both 
feel'n  pretty  bad,  I  expect.  After  a  while  the  captin 
got  smart  and  cold,  and  felt  mighty  lonesome,  and  he 
said  he  raaly  thought  he'd  a  gi'n  in  and  died,  if  they 
hadn't  pick'd  him  up  that  arternoon." 

u  Who  picked  him  up,  Venus?" 

"  Who  ?  a  codfish  craft  off  o'  Newfoundland,  I 
expect.  They  didn't  know  what  to  make  o'  him  when 
they  first  see  him  slingen  up  his  fcat  for  'em.  But  they 
got  out  all  their  boats,  and  took  a  small  swivel  and  a 
couple  o'  muskets  aboard,  and  started  off— expecten  it 
was  the  sea-sarpent,  or  an  old  maremaid.  They  woudn't 
believe  it  was  a  man,  until  he'd  told  'em  all  about  it, 
and  then  they  didn't  hardly  believe  it  nuther ;  and  they 
cut  him  out  o'  the  ice  and  tuk  him  aboard  their  vessel, 
and  rubbed  his  legs  with  ile  o'  vitrol ;  but  it  was  a  long 
time  afore  they  come  to." 

"  Didn't  they  hurt  him  badly  in  cutting  him  out, 
Venus?" 

"No,  sir,  I  believe  not;  not  so  bad  as  one  migh 


A    BEAK    SI  OK*. 

s'pose :  for  you  see  he'd  been  stuck  in  so  long,  that  the 
circulaten  on  his  blood  had  kind  o'  rotted  the  ice  that 
was  right  next  to  him,  and  when  they  begun  to  cut,  it 
crack'd  off  putty  smart  and  easy,  and  he  come  out 
whole  like  a  hard  biled  egg." 

"  What  became  of  the  bear?" 

"  Can't  say  as  to  that,  what  became  o'  him.  He  went 
off  to  sea  somewheres,  I  expect.  I  should  like  to  know, 
myself,  how  the  varment  got  along  right  well,  for  it  was 
kind  in  him  to  let  the  captin  have  the  biggest  haaf  o' 
the  seal,  any  how.  That's  all,  boys.  How  many's 
asleep  ?" 


PLAYING  "POKER"  IN  ARKANSAS, 

Jn  which  is  shown,  that  if  walls  have  ears,  they  may  have  voice*. 
BY  A  RESIDENT  OF  THAT  "  NECK  OF  TIMBER." 

The  Arkansas  "  Intelligencer,"  published  at  Van  Buren,  is  not 
only  extremely  well  edited,  but  it  numbers  among  its  corre 
spondents  some  of  the  cleverest  men  west  of  the  Mississippi. 
The  gentlemen  alluded  to  are  occasional  contributors  to  the 
"  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  which  boasts  of  "  a  baker's  dozen" 
of  them,  including  "  N.  of  Arkansas,"  an  Ex-Governor, 
Albert  Pike,  the  famous  "  Col.  Pete  Whitstone  of  the  Devil's 
Fork  of  the  Little  Red,"  and  other  celebrities  in  the  literary 
and  sporting  world. 

ANY  one  who  may  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  have 
laid  eyes  on  the  "  Chart  of  this  Neck  of  Timber,"  drawn 
from  actual  surveys,  and  presented,  in  conformity  with 
a  resolution  of  the  Kraked  Klub  of  Fort  Gibson,  to 
"  Old  Festivity,  president  of  the  Mystic  Club  of  Van 
Buren," — we  say  good  fortune  to  have  laid  eyes  on  one 
of  those  charts,  for  there  is  very  few  in  existence,  and 
those  zealously  preserved  by  the  lucky  possessors  there 
of,  must  have  noticed  the  locality  of  the  "  Prairie  Store," 
situated  on  a  commanding  eminence  about  one  mile  east 
of  south  from  the  fort.  To  that  spot  we  wish  to  direct 
the  attention  of  the  reader. 

The  "  Prairie  Store,"  owned  by  Mr. ,  has  been 

long  occupied  by  the  owner  as  a  mercantile  establisn 
ment.  The  building  itself  is  of  considerable  dimensions, 
N  197 


198  PLAYING  "  POKER"  IN  ARKANSAS. 

built  of  logs  neatly  put  together,  pointed  and  white 
washed,  whilst  a  number  of  scattered  out-houses,  such 
as  kitchens,  barns,  stables,  and  the  like,  lend  to  the  tout 
ensemble  quite  a  village-like  appearance.  Among  the 
several  out-houses  connected  with  and  situated  directly 
in  the  rear  of  the  "  Store,"  is  one  used  formerly  and 
lor  a  length  of  time  as  a  bakery.  This  one  had  been 
rented  and  recently  fitted  up  as  a  gambling-house,  by 
an  individual  of  sporting  or  rather  gambling  notoriety, 
generally  known  throughout  the  county  under  the  soubri 
quet  of  Cherokee  Brown. 

The  building  was  composed  of  two  rooms,  one  in 
which  Mr.  B's.  tricks  were  most  imposingly  spread  upon 
a  stationary  table  at  one  end,  with  barely  a  sufficiency 
of  space  between  it  and  the  wall,  for  that  gentleman  to 
sit  whilst  in  the  pursuit  of  his  profession.  The  room 
was  lined  with  clap  boards,  of  which  material  the  entire 
building  was  composed,  with  a  low  incapacious  loft 
overhead,  which  was  the  locale  of  his  sleeping  apart 
ment,  the  entrance  to  which  lay  through  a  square  hole 
in  the  ceiling  of  the  adjoining  room. 

For  the  purpose  intended,  this  spot  was  most  admirably 
chosen ;  for  situated  as  it  is,  very  nearly  in  the  centre 
of  the  neighbourhood,  and  surrounded  as  it  was,  at  in 
considerable  distances,  with  quite  a  number  of  Board 
Taverns  and  Groceries,  the  "  Prairie  Store"  has  become 
the  rendezvous  of  the  denizens  and  sojourners  of  this 
"  Nick  of  Timber." 

We  are  quite  partial  to  the  antique,  and  have  ever 
held  in  high  veneration  the  quaint  old  maxims  which 
have  been  handed  down  to  us  since  the  "  good  old  days 
of  Adam  and  Eve,"  and  there  is  one  among  those  wise 


PLAYING  "POKER"  IN  ARKANSAS.  199 

old  sayings  which  reads,  if  we  do  not  greatly  mistake, 
"  Give  the  devil  his  due,"  the  charity  of  which  we  are 
in  nowise  inclined  to  contest  or  oppose  ;  and  are,  there 
fore,  quite  willing  to  admit  that  much  credit  is  most 
certainly  due  the  dashy  projector  of  the  scheme,  for  the 
tact  he  displayed  both  in  the  choice  of  locality  and  the 
various  tricks  devised  to  avoid  the  prolixity  of  a  well- 
contested  game,  to  enhance  the  chances  in  his  favour, 
and  to  transfer  with  more  ease  and  rapidity  any  moneys 
from  the  pockets  of  his  customers  to  those  of  his  own. 
Among  other  tricks  devised  by  the  gentleman  of  the 
sombre  appellation,  that  of  the  trumpet  deserves  to  be 
recorded. 

The  mechanism  of  the  trumpet  was  such  as  at  once 
to  announce  in  its  originator  no  inconsiderable  know 
ledge  of  the  philosophy  of  sounds.  From  the  loft  over 
the  gambling-room,  and  leading  along  the  floor,  and 
downwards  between  the  weather-boarding  and  ceiling, 
to  a  point  about  four  feet  from  the  ground,  and  directly 
in  rear  of  the  chair  usually  occupied  by  B.,  a  tube  of  an 
inch  diameter  was  arranged.  Several  small  holes  in  the 
ceiling  gave  to  a  person  above  the  opportunity  of  per 
ceiving,  at  a  glance,  the  contents  of  the  hands  of  those 
whose  backs  were  towards  him,  whilst  the  lowest 
whisper  through  the  tube  was  conducted  with  the 
utmost  distinctness  to  the  ear  of  him  who  occupied  the 
chair,  and  yet  could  not  be  heard  one  foot  beyond.  Of 
course  B.  required  an  accomplice  for  the  successful  pro 
secution  of  the  game,  and  with  a  most  efficient  one  was 
he  provided,  who  will  be  introduced  to  the  reader  in  his 
proper  place.  Such  was  the  mechanism  of  the  trumpet, 
the  star  invention  of  the  age.  Every  thing  had  been 


200  PLAYING  "POKER"  IN  ARKANSAS. 

most  artfully  prepared,  and  a  game  was  only  wanting  to 
prove  its  efficiency.  Happily  they  had  not  long  to 
await,  but  were  soon  accommodated,  and  in  the  end 
received  more  than  they  had  bargained  for. 

On  a  certain  evening  towards  the  close  of  last  Sep 
tember,  a  large  crowd  of  sporting  characters,  as  was 
usual,  had  gathered  at  the  u  store,"  among  whom,  was 
a  sturdy  native  of  the  mountain  districts  of  the  "  Old 
North  State,"  over  six  feet  in  perpendicular  measure 
ment,  and  of  uncommon  bone  and  sinew ;  he  looked 
any  thing  but  his  name,  which  by  that  singular  license 
of  nomenclature  that  indiscriminately  gives  dark  name? 
to  fair  people,  and  mechanical  ones  to  any  thing  but  ar 
tizans,  had  allotted  him  the  buoyant  name  of  Cork.  Faro 
had  been  the  order  of  the  day,  but  on  the  approach  of 
night,  Brown  had  bantered  the  hardy  mountaineer,  who 
was  said  to  be  a  brag  player,  for  a  game  of  poker, 
which  was  instantly  taken  up. 

After  the  usual  supper  hour,  the  two  retired  to  the 
gambling  room,  and  locking  themselves  in,  were  soon 
deep  into  the  mysteries  by  pairs  and  flushes.  The 
game  terminated  at  a  late  hour,  considerably  in  favour 
of  Cork.  The  next  day  the  game  was  continued,  but 
now,  contrary  to  all  precedents,  luck  was  a  dead  letter, 
and  science  yielded  to  art.  Cork  was  beat  from  the 
commencement.  The  strongest  cards  which  fell  to  his 
hand  yielded  but  the  bare  ante,  whilst  no  brag  of  his 
remained  uncoiled  when  his  opponent  was  superior. 
Suspecting  some  trick  was  being  played  upon  him,  he 
racked  his  brains  to  discover  the  secret.  The  cards 
were  minutely  examined,  and  every  motion  of  his  anta 
gonist  narrowly  scrutinized,  but  in  vain  ;  till  at  length 


PLAYING  " POKER"  IN  ARKANSAS.  201 

tnaking  a  large  brag  on  no  pair,  he  observed  Brown 
lean  back  in  his  chair,  his  head  resting  against  the  wall 
as  though  he  was  deliberating  within  himself  the  policy 
of  calling  and  the  probability  of  winning.  At  that  mo 
ment  a  vague  and  indescribable  thought  flashed  across 
his  mind. 

"  Fifty  dollars  better,  you  say  ?"  observed  Brown. 

"  There's  the  money,  you  can  see  for  yourself." 

"  Well,"  said  Brown,  hesitatingly,  "  I  call." 

*  No  pair,"  said  Cork. 

**  No  pair,"  returned  Brown. 

"  You  beat  me,  I  know." 

"  I've  nothing  but  a  single  king,"  observed  Brown. 

"  That  beats  me,  but  by  G— d  I'll  find  out  this  trick, 
or  die  in  my  tracks!"  vociferated  Cork,  at  the  same 
time  drawing  forth  his  bowie-knife  and  rising  from  his 
chair. 

Satisfied  within  himself  that  he  had  been  tricked,  his 
suspicions  were  directed  over  head.  The  first  room 
was  narrowly  searched,  and  then  the  adjoining  one, 
and  then  his  attention  was  immediately  directed  to  the 
square  aperture  in  the  loft,  which  was  at  the  time 
closed  with  hay,  as  though  that  portion  of  the  building 
was  filled  with  the  particular  commodity.  Unhesitatingly 
he  mounted,  easily  removing  the  little  hay  that  lay  over 
the  hole,  which  was  indeed  only  used  as  a  blind,  and 
ascended  to  the  loft.  Profound  darkness  reigned  there 
above,  and  while  groping  his  way  to  the  opposite  end 
of  the  house,  he  stumbled  against  the  body  of  some 
person,  who,  like  a  sleeping  man  when  disturbed,  turned 
over  on  his  back,  and  went,  accordingly,  through  all  the 
preliminary  steps  of  returning  consciousness. 


202  PLAYING  "  POKER"  IN  ARKANSAS. 

"  Who  in  the  h — 1  are  you,  and  what  are  you  doing 
here  ?" 

"  Why,  it's  me,  Rothrock,  I  was  up  till  day-break, 
and  stole  up  here  to  take  a  nap,"  groaned  that  indivi 
dual,  who  is  too  well  known  throughout  all  this  neck 
of  woods  to  make  a  description  of  him  at  all  needful. 

"  But  what's  the  matter  with  you,  Cork  ?" 

"I've  been  tricked,  and  I  am  right  after  unravel 
ling  it !" 

By  degrees,  his  eyes  becoming  accustomed  to  the 
darkness,  he  perceived  the  tin  tube  which  lay  along  the 
floor,  leading  to  the  wall,  and  downwards.  To  tear 
it  from  the  floor,  and  trace  it  to  its  termination  was  the 
work  of  but  a  few  seconds.  During  this  time,  how 
ever,  Brown  having  an  eye  to  his  own  individual  merit 
and  corporeal  safety,  had  decamped  with  his  money 
and  his  faro  tools,  and  deposited  them  at  the  "store." 
Soon  after,  Cork  sallied  from  the  house,  bearing  in  his 
arms  several  yards  of  tin  pipe,  which  he  amused  him 
self  chopping  up,  to  the  great  edification  of  the  crowd. 
Rothrock,  too,  emerged  from  his  den,  and  arming  him 
self  with  something  similar  to  a  blunderbuss,  had  re 
tired  to  a  room  adjoining  the  store.  Cork  having  made 
a  finish  of  the  pipe,  and  his  rage  still  unabated,  looked 
around  him  for  something  else  whereon  to  vent  his  fury. 
Recollecting  Rothrock,  and  satisfied  he  was  B.'s  accom 
plice,  he  broke  of  in  pursuit,  and  discovering  that  indi- 
dual,  he  seized  him  by  the  throat  and  dashed  him  to 
the  earth,  and  notwithstanding  the  coward's  reiterated 
prayers  for  mercy,  kicked  and  cuffed  him  to  his  heart's 
content. 

Brown  reappeared  in  the  scene  armed  cap-a-pie,  and 


PLAYING  "POKER"  IN  ARKANSAS.  203 

murder  might  have  ensued  had  not  some  person  inter 
posed,  and  proposed  that  each  party  should  abide  the 
decision  of  three  umpires.  The  proposition  was  ac 
ceded  to,  and  three  individuals  selected,  who,  upon 
consultation,  decided  that  the  affair  should  terminate  in 
Brown's  refunding  to  Cork  an  amount  sufficient  to 
place  him  as  he  stood  at  the  beginning  of  the  game. 

Brown,  being  glad  to  get  off  without  bones  being 
broken,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be  wise  to 
emigrate,  and  went  off  at  strides  of  about  nine  and  a 
half  feet  to  the  lay  down  and  picked  it  up  like  rats 
fighting,  and  has  not  been  heard  of  since. 


THE    END. 


THE 


DRAMA  IN  POKERVILLE; 

• 

THE  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  JURYTOWN, 


AND 


OTHER    STORIES. 


BY  "EVERPOINT," 

(J.  M.  FIELD,  ESQ.,  OF  THE  ST.  LOUIS  REVEILLE.) 


toitt)  <£igt)t  Illustrations, 

FROM  ORIGINAL  DESIGNS,    ENGRAVED   EXPRESSLY  FOR   THIS   WORK, 

BY  F.  O.  C.  DARLEY. 


$  1)  i  I  a  ft  t  \  p  I)  i  a : 

T.    B.    PETERSON    AND    BROTHERS, 

306    CHESTNUT    STREET 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1850,  by 

A.  HART, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District  of  Pemuyl  vania. 


Debicotion* 

TO  MESSRS.  CAREY  &  HART, 

Publishers,  Philadelphia. 

GENTLEMEN — This  morning,  accompanying  certain  proof- 
sheets,  I  received  a  few  lines  from  you,  informing  me  that  I  had 
neglected  to  enclose  among  my  MSS.  of  "  The  Drama  in  Poker- 
ville,"  &c.,  a  Dedication  !  and  requesting  me,  at  once,  to  supply 
the  deficiency,  under  peril  of  a  delayed  press  and  further  calami 
ties  !  Gentlemen,  in  my  present  distress  of  mind,  I  reany  know 
no  friends  whom  /  think  more  of  than  yourselves;  permit  me, 
therefore,  in  no  less  sincerity  than  haste,  to  dedicate  the  volume 
to  you,  whose  enterprise  and  liberality  have  opened  out  a  native 
literary  path,  which,  albeit  not  the  most  elevated,  nevertheless 
hath  its  pleasant  ways,  and  which  I  hope  very  many  may  travel 
with  more  credit  to  themselves,  and  amusement  to  the  public, 
man  doth  your  obliged  servant, 

THE  AUTHOR. 

St  Louis,  Mo.,  June  7, 1847. 


PREFACE. 


THE  reader  will  have  seen,  from  the  preceding  page,  that 
the  author  of  the  present  collection  of  stones  is  either  very 
remiss  in  his  habits,  or  else  very  green  at  publishing. 
«« The  Drama  in  Pokerville"  actually  sent  to  the  printer 
without  a  dedication  !  What  will  he  say,  then,  when  he 
is  informed  that  the  same  letter  which  called  for  the  dedi 
cation,  reminded  the  author  that  he  was  also  sending  forth 
his  book,  in  the  most  barefaced  manner,  without  a  Preface 
either ! 

The  Drama  in  Pokerville  came  as  near  being  damned 
for  want  of  regular  announcement,  as  it  too  often  does,  in 
other  important  places,  from  pushing  the  announcements, 
&c.,  too  far !  The  truth  is,  the  author  would  have  been 
content,  letting  the  reader  do  his  own  prefacing,  and  arriv 
ing  at  his  own  conclusion — in  the  middle  of  the  volume, 
perhaps — but  the  demand  has  been  made,  and  thcpourquoi 
of  the  matter  must  be  given. 

In  a  few  words,  then,  certain  scatterlings  on  the  face  of 
the  land  have  been,  for  some  time  back,  scribbling  queer 
things  for  the  amusement  of  the  queer  people,  and,  volume 
after  volume,  these  things  have  been,  queerly,  condensing 
into  book  shape,  taking  upon  themselves,  moreover,  certain 

5 


6  PREFACE. 

decencies  of  binding,  and  what  not,  and  actually  getting 
responsible  persons  to  stand  up  and  answer  for  their  adop 
tion  into  the  more  regularly  begat,  and  better  conditioned 
family  of  literature.  They  are  called  eccentric,  to  be  sure, 
but  then  they  are  tolerated  as  being  such,  and,  satisfied  with 
their  reception,  they  are  contentedly  multiplying  their 
numbers — we  will  not  presume  to  say  influence — day  by 
day. 

The  respectable  publishers  of  the  present  volume  are 
chiefly  responsible  for  the  sin  of  its  appearance.  From 
their  vast  literary  granary,  they  think  it  good  and  whole- 
s.ome  to  dispense,  occasionally,  a  measure  of  mirth ;  and 
they  have  thought  it  good,  moreover,  to  select  the  present 
writer  as  one  who  might,  perhaps,  assist  in  supplying  the 
demand.  The  writer  has  nothing  further  to  say,  (whatever 
he  may  hope,)  save  that  the  new  stories  in  the  collection 
were  written  very  hastily,  and  that  the  longest  of  them — 
"  The  Drama,"  &c. — he  has  had  no  opportunity  of  revising, 
a  proof  of  it  not  having  been  included  among  the  sheets 
sent  to  him.  As  Manager  Dust  might  say,  he  throws  him 
self  entirely  "  upon  the  known  generosity  of  a  Pokerville 
audience  !" 

THE  AUTHOR. 

St.  Louis,  Mo.,  June  7, 1847. 


CONTENTS, 


Page 

THE  DRAMA  IN  POKERVILLE 9 

The  Great  Small  Affair  Announcement 9 

Feeling  in  Pokerville 12 

The  Great  Small  Affair  Opening 15 

The  Great  Pokerville  Preliminaries 29 

TheGreat  Small  Affair  Mystery 40 

The  Great  Pokerville  Re-union 43 

The  Great  Small  Affair  Dinner 51 

The  Great  Pokerville  "Saw" 65 

The  Great  Small  Affair  Scandal. 70 

The  Great  Small  Affair  Chastisement 74 

The  Great  Small  Affair  Duel 83 

What  was  built  on  the  Great  Small  Affair  Foundation. . .  .88 

THE  BENCH  AND  BAR  OP  JURYTOWN 93 

A  SUCKER  IN  A  WARM  BATH 100 

A.N  «  AWFUL  PLACE" 103 

THE  ELK  RUNNERS 108 

"  OLD  SOL"  IN  A  DELICATE  SITUATION 112 

THE  "GAGGING  SCHEME;"  OR,  WEST'S  GREAT  PICTURE 118 

ESTABLISHING  THE  SCIENCE 129 

OLE  BULL  IN  THE  "  SOLITUDE" 134 

How  OUR  FRIEND  B — 's  HAIR  WENT 139 

A  FANCY  BARKEEPER 143 

"Ma.  NOBBLE!" 149 

7 


CONTENTS. 

Page 
«  HONEY  RUN" 157 

A  «  HUNG"  JURY 160 

PATERNAL  GUSHINGS 164 

A  WERHT  GRAVE  EXHORTATION 166 

«  YOUR  TURN  NEXT,  SIR" 169 

STOPPING  TO  «  WOOD" 173 

DEATH  OF  MIKE  FINK 177 

ESTABLISHING  A  CONNECTION 184 

A  NIGHT  IN  A  SWAMP 188 

STEAMBOAT  MISERIES 194 

A  RESURRECTIONIST  AND  His  FREIGHT 197 


THE 

DRAMA  IN  POKERVILLE; 

OB,  THE 

GKEAT  SMALL  AFFAIR  COMPANY. 


THE  GREAT  SMALL  AFFAIR  ANNOUNCEMENT! 
POKERVILLE  THEATRE, 

(LATE   WILSON'S   STORE-SHED.) 

FIRST   NIGHT   OF   THE   SEASON! 

Thus  doth  immortal  Shakspeare  flourish  still- 
First  night  of  a  short  season  in  Pokervt««/ 

$^p  MR.  OSCAR  DUST,  Manager  of  the  Great  Small 
Affair  Theatre,  begs  to  inform  the  public,  that,  at  the 
urgent  solicitation  of  many  distinguished  citizens,  he 
has  arrived,  with  the  purpose  of  FOUNDING  THE  DRAMA 
in  Pokerville  !  Mr.  O.  D.  announces  his  intention  of 
making  simply  a  short  season  of  two  weeks — or  more 
at  farthest — during  which  time  he  will  have  the  honour 
of  presenting  to  the  citizens  of  Pokerville,  in  a  style  of 
unrivalled  perfection,  all  the  cheifde  evers  of  dramatic 
genius  ! 

Mr.  0.  D.  would  call  attention  to  the  following  un 
precedented  list  of  talent : 

0  Q 


10  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

MRS.  OSCAR  BUST,  of  the  Great  Small  Affair  Theatre, 
also  of  the  principal  eastern  houses,  this  being 
the  last  engagement  which  she  will  perform 
prior  to  her  departure  for  Europe  ! 

Miss  FANNY  WILKINS, — poetically  termed  the  Rising 
Star! 

MR.  KEkBLE  WHITE,  whose  performance  of  Hollo  has 
been  hailed  as  the  only  true  picture  of  the  proud 
Peruvian. 

MR.  JOHN  WATERS,  the  Classic  Veteran. 

MR.  T.  FITZCAROL,  the  distinguished  Vocalist,  from 
.-  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  London. 

MR.  HENRY  CHARLES  JOHNSON,  the  celebrated  Musi 
cian  and  Composer.  4 .  „ 

MR.  HENRY,  Artist. 

MR.  CHARLES,  Costumer. 

MR.  JOHNSON,  Machinist. 

Mr.  0.  D.  feels,  that,  with  this  powerful  array  of 
talent,  he  may  safely  announce  to  the  citizens  of  Poker- 
•ville  a  classic  treat,  on  this,  the 

OPENING  NIGHT, 

Monday,  June  6, 

When  will  be  presented  the  celebrated  Anglo-German- 
Peruvian  Tragedy  of 

PIZARRO, 

OB, 

THE   DEATH  BRIDGE, 

(With  a  new  PRECIPICE.) 

$*fr"  Mr.  0.  D.  respectfully  informs  the  public,  that, 
availing  himself  of  the  peculiar  structure  of  the  build 
ing,  the  artist  of  the  establishment  has  been  enabled  to 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  H 

present  the  Bridge  scene  in  a  thrillingly  effective  man 
ner. 

Characters  in  the  Play. 

ROLLO,  The  Proud  Peruvian,  -     Mr.  KEMBLE  WHITE. 
Pizarro,    —     ?:£%     -  Mr.  J.  Waters. 

Alonzo,          -     -   -'.  '  -     Mr.  T.  Fitzcarol. 

Ataleba,    ,*\*  t  4        -         Mr.  Oscar  Dust. 

Valverde,        -     ':  -  '•'  v   *r        -     Mr.  Henry. 
Osano,        -  .-  Mr.  Charles. 

Sentinel,     •  ;J.  '-.';•,.;     -     Mr.  Johnson. 
ELVIRA,  —  "Meet  and  Survive!"    Mrs.  OSCAR  DUST. 
Cora,  —  Daughter  of  the  Sun,    -     Miss  Fanny  Wilkins. 
Priests,  Vestals,  Peruvians,  Spaniards,  &c.,  by  the 
rest  of  the  Company. 

Act  \st.  The  Conqueror. 
Act  2d.  The  Descent  of  Real  Fire  ' 
Act  3d.  The  Conflict.    «  Cora  !  rather  bid  me  strike 
this  sword  into  my  heart  !" 

Act  4th.  The  Blighted  Plantain  ! 
Act  bth.  THE  DEATH  BRIDGE. 


Mr.  0.  D.  would  respectfully  request  attention 
to  Mr.  Kemble  White's  dying  scene,  it  having  been 
universally  acknowledged  as  the  most  faithful  delinea 
tion  of  death  from  gun-shot  wounds. 

After  the  Tragedy, 

"MARCH  TO  THE  BATTLE  FIELD," 

(In  character,)      -     iW*^'     -         by  Mr.  T.  Fitzcarol. 

Pas  de  Pokerville, 

''Composed     and    arranged    expressly   for   the    occa 
sion,)  -     r<*>:    -  '*-  '     -     Miss  FANNY  WILKINS. 


12  THE    DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE. 

The  whole  to  conclude  with  the  new  and  favourite 
Afterpiece,  called 

MATURED  PHILOSOPHY  5 

OH, 

"  Is  it  a  Bird  ?" 

COLIN.  The  youth  who  never   )    ,,      ~          _ 

f  >   Mrs.  OSCAR  DUST. 

saw  a  woman,  ) 

Eliza,  Her  first  ecstasy,         -         Miss  Fanny  Wilkins. 

NOTICE.— Colonel  Mags,  chief  constable,  will  be 
in  attendance  to  enforce  an  observance  of  etiquette. 
The  three  front  benches  reserved  for  ladies.  No  smok 
ing  allowed,  save  at  the  windows.  (^  Peanuts  and 
Pecans  prohibited,  save  while  the  curtain  is  down. 

No  admittance  behind  the  scenes  on  any  account 

Palladium  Office, 


FEELIN.G  IN  POKERVILLE. 

The  Great  Small  Affair  poster,  printed  at  the  office 
of  the  Pokerville  Palladium — one  full  sheet — attracted 
the  gaze  of  all,  as  may  be  supposed.  There  was,  cer 
tainly,  a  great  desire  felt  to  have  a  theatre  established 
in  Pokerville,  a  very  promising  town,  situated  «  out" 
— somewhere,  on  the  "Big" — something,  at  the  head 
of  navigation,  with  a  fine  back  country,  and,  conse 
quently  bound  to  become  "  a  place,"  as  sure  as  shoot 
ing!  There  were,  already,  several  brick  stoics ;  mer 
chants  were  settling,  steamboats  arriving,  prodoose 
departing, — in  short,  "  taking  a  company"  there  was 
a  sure  speculation,  and  Manager  Dust  no  sooner  sub 
mitted  the  matter  to  Mrs.  D.,  than  she,  unequivocally, 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  13 

pronounced  it  to  be  a  firstrate  idea !  There  was  a 
"  heap"  of  taste  in  Pokerville,  too,  and  it  had  its 
«  first  families  ;"  besides,  its  larger  neighbour,  Coons- 
borough,  which  hitherto  had  engrossed  all  the  business, 
had  long  had  a  theatre,  and  corner  lots  commanded, 
even  already,  more  in  Pokerville  than  they  did  in 
Coonsborough.  It  was  perfectly  plain,  then,  that  Man 
ager  Dust  was  just  nat'rally  bound  to  make  «  a  corde 
of  money  !" 

The  Pokerville  Palladium  hailed,  with  enthusiasm, 
the  «  dawn  of  Thespis,"  as  the  editor  figuratively  ex 
pressed  it.  Printing  the  bills ;  on  terms  of  admiring 
intimacy  with  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust ;  rather  smitten  with 
Miss  Fanny  Willqns,  and  on  cocktail  acquaintance 
with  the  rest  of  the  company,  from  Mr.  Kemble 
White  to  Messrs.  Henry,  Charles,  and  Johnson, — a 
mysterious  trinity,  of  whom  more  anon, — how  could 
the  editor  of  the  Palladium  be  other  than  favourable  ? 
That  widely  circulated  journal,  after  describing  the 
nobly  conceived  and  expensive  alterations  which  had 
converted  "Wilson's  store-she^l"  into  a  home  of  the 
muses,  and  assuring  its  readers,  that  the  coop  de  oil  (the 
editor  never  indulged  in  French — this  notice  must 
have  been  written  by  the  more  refined  manager)  would 
"strike  every  beholder,"  went  off  into  even  a  sublimer 
strain  with  regard  to  the  Great  Small  Affair  Company ! 
Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  to  Siddonian  majesty,  united  grace 
and  pathos,  speaking  a  native  delicacy  of  mind  ;  while 
Miss  Fanny  Wilkins,  as  rich  in  the  accomplishments 
of  the  artiste  as  remarkable  for  the  propriety  of  her 
private  deportment,  was  formed  to  captivate  all  hearts. 
Mr.  Kemble  White  was  clearly  marked  as  the  future 
pride  of  the  American  stage ;  attention  was  called  fq 


14  THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE. 

the  chaste  and  beautiful  reading  of  the  "  Classic*  Vete 
ran,"  Mr.  Waters ;  Mr.  Fitzcarol  was  to  stir  the  soul 
with  melody,  while  Mr.  Henry  Charles  Johnson,  Mr. 
Henry,  Mr.  Charles,  and  plain  Johnson,  were  all  won 
ders,  in  their  way. 

The  three  taverns,  and  thirty-three  bar-rooms,  of 
Pokerville,  exclusive  of  a  billiard-room  and  ten-pin- 
alley,  were  alive  at  an  early  hour.  No  event  had  been 
so  discussed  since  the  arrival  of  the  first  steamboat.  A 
travelling  menagerie,  to  be  sure,  the  summer  previous, 
with  its  elephant  and  monkeys,  had  attracted  consider 
able  attention,  but  this  was  all  forgotten,  and  varmints 
were  "no  whar,"  in  comparison  with  the  anticipations 
with  regard  to  Wilson's  store-shed,  and  real  live  act 
ors  !  Several  had  made  bold  to  peep  inside,  in  spite 
of  the  "No  Admittance"  which  frowned  from  a  shin 
gle,  over  the  door,  and  each  one  declared  that  it  just 
beat  any  thing  «  this  side  of  Qrleens,"  to  death  !  The 
niggers  were  patting  Juba  on  every  corner,  but  the 
pleasurable  excitement  among  the  "  first  families"  was 
scarcely  less  remarkable.  The  leading  woman  was 
Mrs.  Major  Slope,  whose  husband  having  had  a  trust 
of  some  kind  in  Florida,  had  "helped  himself  and 
quit,"  to  enjoy  a  tolerable-sized  plantation — settled 
on  his  wife.  Mrs.  S.  had  «  been  on  to  Washington" 
twice,  and,  altogether,  taste  and  fashion  were  of  the 
Slope  cut  in  Pokerville.  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  had  letters 
to  Mrs.  Major  Slope,  and  Mrs.  Major  Slope  had,  at 
at  once,  called  on  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust ;  both  ladies  were 
charmed  with  the  identity  of  their  tastes  and  feelings 
— the  ideal  being  paramount  with  each,  and  friendship 
and  patronage  were  things  of  course.  Didn't  Mrs. 
Oscar  Dust  spread  herself,  to  the  entire  obscuration  of 


THE    DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE.  15 

Miss  Fanny  Wilkins,  who  had  not  the  entree  of  society ! 
and  didn't  she  manage,  in  the  blandest  kind  of  way, 
to  take  preventive  measures  against  said  young  lady's 
ever  arriving  at  that  high  distinction  ! 


THE  GREAT  SMALL  AFFAIR  OPENING. 

IT  was  a  great  night  for  Pokerville !  Everybody 
knows  what  a  first  night  is !  Colonel  Mug,  as  chef  de 
police,  made  a  desperate  effort  to  retain  front  seats,  but 
Mrs.  Major  Slope  coming  rather  late,  and  Mrs.  Wil 
son,  lady  of  "Wilson's  store-shed,"  feeling  herself, 
under  the  circumstances,  equally  privileged,  both  la 
dies  were  obliged  to  stand  up  and  be  scrouged  until 
chairs  could  be  brought  from  the  hotel,  when  they 
were  gracefully  placed — like  sister  muses,  as  Mr.  Oscar 
Dust  expressed  it — in  opposite  corners  of  the  pro 
scenium;  from  which  remote  position  Mrs.  Major  Slope 
immediately  prepared  to  bring  the  performances  to  her, 
by  means  of  a  double-barreled  opera-glass  !  Mr.  H. 
C.  Johnson,  an  unobtrusive  young  man,  with  straight 
hair,  and  a  faint  rent  under  the  arm,  now  took  his  seat 
at  the  piano — Mrs.  Major  Slope's  own,  and  which  now 
constituted  the  Great  Small  Affair  orchestra.  Apples  were 
munched,  pecans  cracked ;  there  was  a  lively  chewing 
and  spitting,  while  at  least  six  in  each  window,  with 
one  leg  dangling  out,  smoked,  in  strict  compliance 
with  the  published  regulations.  Every  thing  was  lively, 
too,  behind  the  scenes  ;  Mr.  Oscar  Dust,  never  taking 
more  than  «  three  minutes  to  dress,"  was  busy  with 
the  lights,  having  got  through  the  tickets  ;  Mrs.  Oscar 
and  Miss  Fanny,  dressing  together,  behind  a  carefully 


16  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

pinned-up  shawl,  were  « hooking"  each  other ;  Mr. 
Kemble  White  was  pulling  on  his  fleshings,  behind  a 
".throne  chair  ;"  Mr.  Fitzcarol  was  contemplating  a 
somewhat  peculiar  physiognomy — of  which  more  anon 
• — in  a  triangular  bit  of  looking-glass,  under  a  sconce  ; 
while  the  Classic  Veteran,  Mr.  Waters,  already  dressed 
for  Pizarro,  under  a  black  feather  and  a  press  of  enthu 
siasm,  was  measuring  the  stage — exactly  five  strides  in 
depth.  Messrs.  Henry,  Charles,  and  plain  Johnson, 
were  not  about,  singularly  enough,  but  the  matter  was 
partially  explained  when,  a  Strauss  waltz  ceasing  in 
front,  Mr.  H.  C.' Johnson  suddenly  made  his  appear 
ance  behind,  pulled  off  his  pants,  showed  his  legs,  al 
ready  incased  in  tights,  jerked  on  a  pair  of  buff  boots, 
slipped  into  a  tunic,  and  was  dressed  for  Valverde  ! 
Mr.  Fitzcarol,  who  was  "  dressed  under"  for  Alonzo, 
now  clapped  on  a  white  shirt  and  gray  wig,  to  "  dou 
ble"  Orozimbo  ;  Mr.  Oscar  Dust  prepared  himself  in  a 
trice  to  do  the  same  for  Las  Casas  ;  the  Spanish  and 
Peruvian  armies  were  supposed  to  be  «  seen  off."  A 
tinkle  of  the  bell — Mr.  O.  D.  himself  pulled  up  the 
curtain,  and  now  "  Hats  off  in  front !" — "  Stop  them 
pecans  !" — «  Silence!" — "  Sit  down  !"  &c. 

Elvira!  (Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,)  had  seen  all  the  Siddons 
prints,  and  Queen  Catherine,  Lady  Macbeth,  Constance, 
and  Mrs. Oscar  Dust  herself,  in  their  combined  majesties, 
now  loomed  upon  the  Pokerville  audience,  their  heads, 
in  fact,  almost  in  the  skies,  which — perhaps  in  some 
measure  owing  to  the  "peculiar  construction"  of  the 
house — seemed  to  bend  to  meet  them.  There  was  a 
tremendous  cheer.  Mrs.  Major  Slope  waved  her  hand 
kerchief,  for  which  reason  Mrs.  Wilson's  store-shed  did 
not,  and  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust's  practised  eye  at  once  per- 


THE    DRAMA   IN    POKER VILLE.  17 

ceived  that  she  would  have  to  manoeuvre  between  rival 
patronesses.  Her  courtesy  was  the  grandest  thing  ever 
seen  in  Pokerville,  while  the  way  in  which,  with  a 
corner  of  either  grateful  eye,  she  signified  the  intensity 
of  her  emotions  to  each  corner  of  the  stage,  was  little 
less  than  a  thrill  to  the  fair  occupants  of  both.  Mrs. 
Oscar  Dust  was  a  lady  of  a  very  "certain  age,"  with  a 
decidedly  commanding  figure ;  that  is,  she  weighed 
one  hundred  and  eighty  pounds !  She  was  florid,  with  a 
«  remarkably  fine  head  of  hair  ;"  prominent  eyes,  which 
she  made  peculiarly  effective  in  her  mad  scenes,  and  a 
nose  somewhat  fat,  and  of  an  "  upward  tendency,"  as 
they  say  in  the  cotton  market.  Mrs.  Dust  was  a  great 
wardrobe  fancier,  and  she  now  stood  wrapt  up  in  classic 
interest.  She  wore  the  identical  train,  "  as  Waters 
knew,"  (he  knew  every  thing,  "  like  a  good  creature,") 
in  which  Mrs.  Siddons  took  her  farewell  of  the  stage. 
Her  satin  under-dress  was  that  in  which  Miss  O'Niel 
made  her  first  appearance  in  London;  her  drapery  had 
been  sent  to  her  from  Paris  by  Mam'selle  Mars ;  while 
her  girdle  had  clasped  the  waist  of  Josephine  VEmpe- 
ratrice  herself!  There  was  an  anecdote  complimentary 
to  Mrs.  Dust  in  every  inch  of  every  article  she  wore, 
down  to  the  darns  on  her  silk  stockings ;  and  if  in  all 
this  grandeur  she  still  looked  a  little  dingy,  it  was  en 
tirely  owing  to  her  romantic  devotion  to  such  relics ; 
indeed,  as  Mrs.  Dust  was  fond  of  declaring,  they  were 
essential  to  her  inspirations  ! 

Elvira  was  the  "  great  creature"  in  every  gesture. 
Mr.  Henry  was  "  chaste  and  correct,"  and,  with  the 
roll  of  a  drum,  skilfully  executed  by  Mr.  Oscar  Dust  at 
the  wing,  entered  the  Conqueror  of  Peru.  This  is 
no  time  to  criticize  :  suffice  it  that  the  "  doubles" 
2 


18  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

acted  a  full  night's  work  in  either  part,  regardless  of 
the  fact  that  they  were  "  dressed  under"  for  still  more 
arduous  duties.  Elvira  was  thrillingly  severe  upon 
Pizarro  ;  Valverde  took  upon  himself  to  stab  Orozimbo 
instead  of  Davilla,  no  warrior  of  the  latter  name  being 
by ;  the  murderous  blow  was  received  with  a  yell,  as  a 
favourite  point ;  the  conqueror  declared  his  intentions 
with  regard  to  Quito,  and  down  fell  the  curtain  upon  a 
«  deep  sensation !" 

SECOND  ACT — Introducing  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins — 
Cora !  and  there  sh.e  was,  a  nice  little,  fair-skinned, 
open-eyed,  loveable-looking  girl,  with  a  modest  air,  and 
such  ancles ;  the  whole  effect  rendered  more  piquant 
by  her  simple  white  dress,  the  right  length  to  a  line. 
And  there  was  "  Cora's  child,"  too, — by  the  by,  we 
have  never  heard  that  Alonzo  entertained  any  misgiv 
ings  on  the  subject,  but  the  play-bills  invariably  pay 
but  little  attention  to  his  claims  as  a  father — «  Cora's 
child  !"  concerning  which  innocent  the  happy  mother 
observes,  that  "he  will  speak  soon;"  and  that  his  teeth, 
«  pearls,"  &c.,  will  soon  «  break  the  crimson  buds  that 
do  encase  them,"  but  which  lines  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins 
judiciously  «  cut  out,"  inasmuch  as  that  "  her  lord's 
image  and  her  heart's  adored,"  the  teethling  in  ques 
tion,  was  a  seven  year  old,  with  a  wide  mouth,  and 
one  who,  moreover,  wore  a  spangled  child's  frock  over 
his  own  trowsers  and  a  pair  of  brogans.  Cora  had  re 
monstrated,  to  be  sure,  but,  as  the  child  was  a  "  pro 
perty,"  and  not  a  "  character,"  Mr.  Charles,  who  was 
at  the  head  of  this  department,  observed,  with  almost 
temper,  that  if  Mr.  Johnson  had  to  spend  his  time  mak- 
h)g  precipices,  and  Mr.  Henry  had  to  paint  them,  and 
plain  Johnson  had  to  study,  and  Mr.  Henry  Charles 


THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE.  19 

Johnsonhad  to  "play  the  people  in,"  and  then  "double" 
three  parts,  he  was  not  likely  to  have  much  time  left  to 
run  round  town  getting  children !  The  protean  Mr. 
Johnson  was  really  a  very  good-natured  fellow,  and 
seldom  "let  out"  in  this  way,  above  all  against  Miss 
Fanny  Wilkins ;  but  opening  nights  are  opening  nights 
in  all  theatres,  and  this  was  his  apology  subsequently. 
There  stood  Mr.  Fitzcarol,  too,  as  Alonzo,  the  group 
forming  a  very  pleasing  example  of  the  domestic  pic 
turesque.  Mr.  Fitzcarol  was  more  like  himself  in  this 
part,  being  rid  of  his  Orozimbo  gray  whig,  beard,  &c.; 
we  say  that  he  was  more  like  himself ,  without,  be  it 
understood,  having  the  slightest  reference  to  physi 
ognomy,  for  a  man  with  a  broken  nose  is  not  very  apt 
to  look  like  other  people.  Mr.  Fitz,  or  "  Figurehead," 
as  he  was  sometimes  called,  had  met  with  that  mis 
fortune,  and  it  prayed  upon  his  spirits  decidedly.  He 
no  longer  "occupied  a  position,"  and  his  nasal  regret 
was  constantly,  «  Before  I  lost  my  nose  I  was  a  fea 
ture!"  He  had  acted  in  "principal  theatres ;"  had 
even  "sung  in  London!"  He  had  been  remarkable 
for  his  Roman  nose  and  fine  wardrobe  ;  was  famous  in 
all  the  singing  captains  ;  and  at  a  patriotic  song,  espe 
cially  if  he  could  draw  a  sword  in  it  between  the 
pieces,  he  was  unrivalled.  But  this  glory  was  too 
much  for  one  man.  On  the  production  of  the  Bayadere, 
in  a  provincial  theatre,  he  was,  as  the  god,  pitched  out 
of  the  car,  on  the  first  night,  breaking  his  nose,  and, 
worse  than  all,  ruining  the  run  of  the  piece.  The  star 
Bayadere,  however,  had  cause  to  be  grateful ;  it  was  to 
the  self-sacrificing  gallantry  of  her  companion  that  she 
owed  her  safety ;  he  broke  her  fall — and  his  own  nose  at 
the  same  time ;  he  preserved  the  star,  but  ceased  himself 


20  THE    DRAMA    IN   PORERVILLE. 

to  be  a  «  feature  !"  Everybody  has  heard  of  a  «  shock 
ing  bad  hat,"  without  being  able  to  fix  in  their  minds 
what  the  peculiarity  expressed,  or  intended  to  be  ex 
pressed,  exactly  is.  They  know  that  it  is  a  bad  hat,  but 
the  epithet  "  shocking"  neither  expresses  shape,  size, 
nor  quality.  They  only  know  that  it  is  a  strange,  sad 
object,  one  carefully  to  be  avoided  in  society;  and  so 
it  was  pretty  nearly  with  the  vocalist's  nose,  it  was  a 
shocking  bad  nose !  Whether  it  was  the  flattening 
immediately  under  the  eyes,  the  'crush  of  the  arch,  as 
it  were,  upon  the  sight;  or  the  spring,  from  the  ruins,  of 
the  tip — like  a  young  nose  on  its  own  account — to  the 
left,  the  general  effect  was  most  peculiar,  giving  Mr. 
Fitz's  face  a  sort  of  zig-zag  expression,  and  whether 
he  rolled  his  eyes  in  sentiment,  or  flashed  them  in  ire, 
it  was  equally  disastrous  to  the  scene,  with  the  audi- 
ance.  «  Figurehead,"  or  «  the  feature,"  had  at  length 
found  his  way  into  the  great  small  affair  theatres,  where, 
gouged  eyes  and  bitten  noses  exciting  less  admiration, 
he  got  along  with  more  tranquillity ;  being  generally 
allowed,  moreover,  to  be  "  some"  in  "  Draw  the  sword 
Scotland !"  He  had  been  rather  nervous  about  his 
debut,  poor  fellow,  but  he  had  shown  his  nose,  and  all 
was  right,  and  he  was  happy !  Cora  went  on  with  her 
maternal  rhapsodies,  and,  after  all,  her  "  lord's  image" 
did  bear  something  of  a  family  likeness,  for  albeit  the 
child  had  not  a  broken  nose,  yet  his  pug  was  of  a  very 
odd  pattern,  and  the  addition  of  a  squint  made  up 
something  of  the  zig-zag  expression  mentioned. 

But  now  another  roll  of  the  drum  behind  the  scenes. 
L.  H.  2d  ent.  Three  vigorous  cheers  from  the  throats 
of  Mr.  Oscar  Dust  and  his  factotum,  the  triune  Mr. 
Johnson,  a  stentorian  command  to  station — sentinels, 


THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  21 

doubtless,  «  opposite  the  Spanish  camp,"  and  on  came 
Mr.  Kemble  White,  the  acknowledged  Rollo ; — sword, 
shield,  sandals,  shirt,  all  complete ;  a  magnificent 
entrance,  and  to  thunders  of  applause !  Mr.  Kemble 
White  was  even  above  the  heroic  height,  but  not  quite 
up  to  the  heroic  weight,  as  established  by  the  success 
of  Mr.  Gonz,  the  great  eastern  actor,. who  made  two 
hundred  kick  the  beam  !  Mr.  White  had  equal  advan 
tages  of  lungs,  but  could  not  exactly  reach  the  two 
feet  round  the  calf !  What  then?  Why,  as  independ 
ent  of  nature  as  a  rising  tragedian  had  a  right  to  be, 
he  "  made  himself  up  !"  There  he  stood,  his  magnificent 
breadth  of  chest — padding  we  mean — heaving  and 
swelling,  and  his  unrivalled  legs  walking  into  all  the 
boatmen.  There  was  somewhat  of  a  disproportion 
noticeable,  occasionally  as  a  long  stride  was  taken, 
between  calf  and  thigh,  but  a  very  deep  voice  and 
a  deeper  frown  awed  any  thing  like  impertinent  in 
quiry. 

" Jovian!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Major  Slope,  elevating 
her  lorgnette. 

«  Jo  who  ?"  inquired  the  major,  emptying  his  mouth 
for  a  fresh  chew. 

"  The  front  of  Jove,  himself!"  continued  the  lady, 
by  way  of  making  herself  more  intelligible.  The 
major  was  not  an  enthusiastic  man,  and  simply  draw 
ing  the  back  of  his  hand  over  his  lips,  he  replenished 
his  jaw. 

The  "temple  scene!"  there  was  the  altar,  sure 
enough,  a  packing  box  set  up  on  end,  and  all  over 
rays  of  vivid  yellow,  from  aDutch  metal  sun,  right  in  the 
centre  !  Mr.  Kemble  White  addressed  his  "  brave  asso 
ciates,"  whom  he  "  saw  off,"  with  an  earnestness  of 


22  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

argument  to  convince  all  present  that  they  were  actually 
ranged  behind  the  wings ;  and  now,  to  test  the  vocal 
powers  of  the  "whole  company!"  Mr.  Oscar  Dust, 
another  «  double,"  entered  as  the  high  priest,  all  in 
white  ;  Mr.  Waters  followed  (to  oblige)  similarly  attired; 
the  virgins  of  the  sun  were  "seen  off" — just  behind  the 
Peruvian  army,  doubtless, — Mr.  H.  C.  Johnson  made  his 
appearance  very  unaccountably  in  the  orchestra,  and 
Mr.  Oscar  Dust  began  his  Solo  !  His  gestures  were  the 
most  appropriate  in  the  world ;  his  legs,  visibly,  were 
employed  in  modulating  the  sound,  and  yet,  some  how 
or  other,  there  was  something  queer  about  it,  it  was  not 
Manager  Dust's  voice, — it  was  an  evident  nose  tone. 
There  was  great  applause,  however,  when  the  "  feature" 
whose  back  had  been  turned,  abstractedly,  from  the 
audience,  observed,  with  a  deep  sigh,  to  Miss  Fanny 
Wilkins,  that  he  did  none  of  this  kind  of  humbug  before 
he  lost  his  nose!  "  Doubling"  a  voice  stuck  in  his 
throat  decidedly !  The  fire  came  down  from  heaven, 
only  sticking  a  little  time,  while  the  kink  in  the  wire 
was  shaken  out ;  the  whole  effect  was  sub — pshaw,  of 
course  it  was ! 

THIRD  ACT. — "Hold,  recreant,  cowards,"  &c.,  a 
burst  of  indignant  remonstrance  on  the  part  of  the  proud 
Peruvian  which  made  the  roof  of  Wilson's  store-shed 
shiver,  and  which  was  only  marred  by  the  proud  Peru 
vian's  cimetry  giving  way — that  is,  he  burst  his  suspen 
ders  and  let  his  heroic  calves  down !  He  hitched  him 
self  up  behind,  though,  with  a  readiness  of  resource 
characteristic  of  genius,  and  dashed  off,  once  more, 
with  his  reassured  countrymen,  to  rescue  their  beloved 
Inca.  Mrs.  Major  Slope  declared  that  it  was  worthy 
of  the  drama  in  its  palmy  days,  and  the  editor  of  the 


THE   DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE.  23 

Palladium,  Busby  Case,  Esq.,  signified  his  intention  of 
going  it  strong  in  his  next  article. 

FOURTH  ACT. — And  still  increasing  interest.  Mr. 
Johnson  multiplied  himself  once  more  by  disguising 
in  a  bunch  of  keys  and  spear,  for  the  sentinel ;  Alonzo 
was  rescued,  Elvira  wooed  the  proud  Peruvian  to  his 
revenge.  A  change  of  scene,  and  there  lay  "  the  ac 
cursed  destroyer  of  his  country's  peace" — the  classic  Mr. 
Waters,  on  the  recent  altar,  now  laid  flat  and  covered 
by  a  red  domino,  the  whole  representing  a  martial 
couch!  Pizarro  was  grasped  by  the  throat,  dragged 
forward  in  a  series  of  shakes — a  heroic  tableau  was 
formed  at  the  very  feet  of  Mrs.  Major  Slope,  and  «  put 
it  into  him,  hoss !"  «  Look  out  old  coon  !"  &c.,  testified 
to  the  ready  sensibilities  of  the  audience.  Immedi 
ately  followed  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust's  greatest  triumph,  as  it 
was  critically  termed ;  where,  her  vengeance  foiled, 
and  feelings  outraged,  she  "jest  let  out"  as  Mrs.  Store- 
Shed  Wilson  graphically  expressed  it.  The  injured 
heroine  drew  up  a  statement  of  wrongs,  piled  on  a 
recapitulation,  and  capped  the  whole  with  a  scream 
that  not  only  made  the  hair,  but  the  entire  front  bench 
rise  right  up!  in  fact,  it  quite  "cuddled  one's  blood" — 
once  more  in  Mrs.  Store-Shed  .Wilson's  graphic  and 
powerful  language.  Then  were  «  guards1'  ordered  to 
"seize  that  frantic  woman!"  and  then  entered  that 
same — no,  not  individual  Johnson,  once  more  with  a 
spear,  making  signs  to  the  six  others,  whom  he  saw  off> 
not  to  come  on,  as  he  himself,  doubtless,  would  prove 
enough  for  her,  and  then  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  marched  to 
death  in  a  grander  style  than  her  Siddons  train  and 
O'Neil  petticoat  had  ever  before  assisted  in  ;  and  then, 
amid  showers  of  tears,  and  shouts  of  applause,  a  natural 


24  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

tribute  to  the  greatest  dust  breathing,  didn't  it  seem 
almost  futile  to  expect  any  thing  further  in  the  way  of 
grandeur?  Of  course  it  did — and  yet  the  Pokerville 
audience  sat  there,  evidently  inclined  to  risk  it ;  and 
so,  up  went  the  curtain  for  the  fifth  Act. 

«  The  death-bridge  !"  There  it  was  indeed !  The 
«  peculiar  construction  of  the  house"  had  been  made 
the  most  of,  certainly.  In  one  of  the  back  corners  of 
"  Wilson's  store-shed,"  a  six-feet-square  "  office"  had 
been  partitioned  off,  now  dignified  as  the  wardrobe  and 
property  room.  A  cut  in  the  partition,  some  four  feet 
from  the  ground,  served  as  a  window,  and  the  quick 
eye  of  Mr.  Oscar  Dust  at  once  detected  the  full  advan 
tages  of  this  point.  For  instance,  in  robber  proces 
sions,  think  of  the  effect  to  be  produced  by  himself, 
Mr.  Johnson,  and  one  or  two  other  «  doubles"  winding 
down  the  mountains  out  of  this  window  ;  disappearing 
at  an  upper  entrance  ;  again  out  at  the  window ;  again 
off — keeping  the  pot  bilin',  as  the  boys  say,  and  thus 
impressing  the  audience  with  the  immense  resources  of 
the  establishment.  The  "  Forty  Thieves,"  upon  this 
hint,  was  already  underlined  to  be  produced  «  upon  a 
scale  of  unexampled  magnificence  !"  The  "  peculiar 
construction"  was  of  striking  service  in  the  present 
bridge-scene,  inasmuch  as  that  Mr.  Oscar  Dust  had 
again  stuck  the  «  altar"  upon  end,  opposite  to  it, — 
stretched  a  plank  from  one  to  the  other,  faced  the  whole 
with  a  few  precipitous  "  set  pieces,"  nearly  as  high  as 
his  shoulders,  and,  to  crown  the  effect  of  the  whole, 
had  contrived  an  axle  and  crank,  by  means  of  which 
to  turn  a  flour  barrel,  ingeniously  painted  and  speckled 
with  raw  cotton  to  resemble  a  waterfall !  The  scene 
was  hailed  with  shouts ;  Mr.  Oscar  Dust  did  his  own 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  25 

turning,  vigorously  grinding,  with  one  hand,  and  as  in 
dustriously  wiping  his  brow  with  the  other ;  the  scene 
proceeded,  and  Holla  daringly  seized  the  child,  who, 
being  rather  overgrown,  as  we  have  stated,  and  some 
what  frightened  at  his  unceremonious  lift,  incontinently 
put  a  leg  over  each  shoulder  of  his  preserver,  and  per 
tinaciously  kept  it  there. 

"  Who  stirs  one  step,  to  follow,  dies  upon  the  spot !" 
The  proud  Peruvian  dashed  off  the  stage  to  make  his 
way  out  to  the  bridge,  through  the  properties  ;  Pizarro 
rushed  up  to  give  his  orders ;  Mr.  Johnson,  as  « the 
guards,"  leveled  his  gun.  Holla's  calves  were  dis 
covered  crossing  the  bridge — the  superior  parts  of  the 
hero  being  hid  in  the  «  flies,"  the  word  was  given  : 
«  Fire  upon  him" — when  a  scream  burst  from  the  foot 
lights,  and  Mrs.  Major  Slope,  dropping  her  opera-glass 
in  strong  hysterics,  and  crying  "Hold,  monsters  1" 
threw  herself  between  the  fugitive  and  destruction,  just 
as  the  fatal  weapon — snapped!  The  sensation  was 
« thrilling,"  and  sharing  the  general  astonishment,  the 
waterfall  stopped  instanter!  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  minus 
her  Siddons  train,  and  even  more  essential  portions 
of  dress  than  that,  flew  to  the  aid  of  her  friend ;  Mr. 
Oscar  Dust,  with  great  presence  of  mind,  lowered  the 
curtain  preparatory  to  stepping  in  front  of  it,  and  ask 
ing  if  there  was  «  a  doctor  in  the  house  ?"  Mr.  Major 
Slope,  who,  having  been  out  to  get  a  little  «  peach," 
had  returned  just  at  the  climax,  and  who  appeared  to 
be  "  used  to  it,"  backed  out  again  to  get  the  carnage 
ready ;  the  audience  were  in  a  stupor  of  amazement, 
when  Mr.  Oscar  Dust  once  more  appeared  to  assure 
them  that  the  paroxysm  was  passed  ; — that  there  was 
no  danger ;  that  it  had  simply  been  the  effect  of 
P 


26  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

wrought  feelings — the  intensity  of  the  dramatic  action, 
aided  as  it  was,  in  a  scenic  view,  by  the  peculiar  con 
struction  of  the  house !  The  last  scene,  Mr.  Dust  ob 
served,  was  yet  to  come — Mr.  Kemble  White's  great 
dying  scene,  his  truthful  delineation  of  a  death  from 
gun-shot  wounds  ;  should  the  play  proceed,  or  stop  there, 
in  sympathy  with  a  too  amiable  lady  ?  He  awaited  their 
pleasure. 

The  astonishment  had  certainly  been  great,  but  the 
sympathy  was  not  so  apparent.  "  Bring  on  your  dead 
man  !"  cried  one  sovereign  auditor.  "  Start  your  Nia 
gara  agin  !"  shouted  another — both  desires  sanctioned 
on  the  part  of  the  whole  by  rounds  of  applause.  Mr. 
Oscar  Dust  bowed,  smiled,  and  retired ;  up  went  the 
curtain  again  ;  there  was  a  shouting  behind  of  "  Holla  ! 
Rolla!  Holla!"  and  on  came  the  hero  of  the  death- 
bridge,  drenched  in  blood  from  his  wig  to  his  waist 
band.  Mr.  Kemble  White  had  evidently  studied  the 
effect  of  having  his  brains  blown  out ;  and  first,  raising 
himself  on  one  arm,  he  pawed  the  air  touchingly  with 
the  other,  as  much  as  to  say,  «  it  wasn't  you,  old  fellow !" 
Then,  dragging  himself  on  to  one  knee,  he  was  sud 
denly  seized  with  vertigo  and  described  several  circles, 
with  his  head  gradually  settling  into  a  lengthened  shake. 
Next,  after  divers  neuralgic  twitchings,  he  recovered 
his  eye-sight,  exclaimed,  "  Cora !"  and,  privileged, 
as  a  dead  man,  he  ensanguined  one  side  of  her  neck 
in  an  embrace.  Turning  now,  wanderingly,  he  per 
ceived  Alonzo,  and  shook  him  deprecatingly  by  the 
hand,  saying,  as  plainly  as  pantomime  could  vsay, 
"  Don't  be  jealous,  you  see  my  brains  are  out!"  and 
now,  with  a  triumphant  laugh,  he  clutched  up  the 
child;  daubed  it  on  both  cheeks ;  examined  it  all  over 


THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  27 

to  see  that  its  brains  were  not  out,  also  ;  and  finally, 
joining  the  hands  of  its  parents,  and  reaching  up  to  the 
"  flies"  for  a  blessing,  to  slow  music,  he  stiffened  him 
self  perpendicularly  for  a  "  back  fall ;"  balanced  him 
self  a  moment,  and  then,  dropping  his  chin  on  his 
breast,  to  save  the  back  of  his  head,  down  he  went — 
"K'chuck!"  as  an  excited  auditor  exclaimed,  in  a 
half-suppressed  tone  of  sympathy !  It  was  a  thrilling 
delineation ;  a  grand  performance ;  the  drama  was 
founded  in  Pokerville! 

In  the  mean  time,  Mrs.  Major  Slope  had  been  placed 
in  a  carriage.  The  major  took  it  quietly ;  fortifying 
himself  with  a  fresh  chew,  and  simply  muttering,  some 
thing  about  being  married  to  a  fashionable  woman! 
off  they  went.  Mr.  Fitzcarol  now  «  Marched  to  the 
Battle  Field,"  and  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins  danced  her 
Pas  de  Pokerville,  amid  yells  of  approbation;  and,  now, 
at  the  moment  of  "  ringing  up"  for  the  afterpiece,  Mr. 
Oscar  Dust  once  more  stepped  before  the  curtain.  It 
was  under  a  mingled  feeling  that  he  now  appeared  be 
fore  them  ;  his  heart  was  certainly  not  deaf  to  the 
triumphant  voice  which  told  him  that  the  drama 
was  founded  in  Pokerville  ;  an  accomplished  lady, 
though,  had  suffered  from  the  too  intense  excitement ; 
and  he  also  grieved  to  say,  that  of  a  kindred  nature, 
Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  was  severely  shaken  by  the  sufferings 
of  her  friend.  .  She  feared,  that  in  the  afterpiece  of 
NATURE  AND  PHILOSOPHY,  or,  Is  it  a  Bird  7  she  might 
be  not  all  herself;  they  would  appreciate  her  feelings; 
they  were  Americans — yes,  they  were  Pokervillians  ! 
and  Mr.  Dust  retired  'mid  a  profound  sensation. 

Colin  was  «  a  sweet  part,"  as  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  used 
to  say,  and  in  her  hands,  it  was  a  downright  lolly  pop  , 


28  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

the  young  couple  were  united,  and  the  curtain  fell, 
and  the  crowd  dispersed,  and  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  was  no 
longer  «  the  observed  of  all  observers,"  seeing  that  she 
was  behind  the  shawl,  taking  her  trowsers  off;  and 
Miss  Fanny  Wilkins  was  getting  ready,  too  ;  and,  at 
the  back  door,  waited  Mr.  Busby  Case,  editor  of  the 
Pokerville  Palladium,  accompanied  by  a  stranger, 
whose  three  breast-pins  and  splendid  gold  guard- 
chains  made  a  great  display  in  the  moonlight. 

Others  were  gathered  round,  also,  and  presently  out 
came  a  heavy-looking  wench,  belonging  to  the  hotel, 
whistling,  with  a  very  large  basket,  and,  immediately 
after,  came  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  and  Mr.  Busby  Case  over 
whelmed  her  with  congratulations ;  and  then  he  intro 
duced  his  friend,  «  Doctor  Slunk  ;  connection  of  Mrs. 
Major  Slope's — one  of  the  first  families  of  Virginia !" 
added  he,  aside,  and  then  Doctor  Slunk  went  through 
his  congratulations,  though,  as  well  as  the  editor,  he 
seemed  to  be  waiting  for  somebody  else.  Mr.  Oscar 
Dust  appeared,  and  they  were  glad  to  see  him,  too, 
but  at  this  moment  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins  stepped  forth, 
and  the  Doctor  nudged  the  editor,  when  another  figure 
showed  his  nose  in  the  moonlight;  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins 
took  his  arm,  and  away  they  went — "  waiving  the 
compliments" — as  the  Doctor  observed,  "  by  thun 
der  !" 

"My  dear  Mr.  Fitzcarol,"  said  Fanny,  as  soon  as 
they  were  out  of  hearing,  "  I  have  a  request  to  make, 
which  will  put  you  to  trouble,  I  know,  but  I  may  take 
liberties  with  you,  mayn't  I  ?"  and  she  looked  up  to 
him  with  her  snug  little  face,  shining  in  the  moonlight, 
till  Mr.  Fitz  felt  his  ruined  nose  growing  right  out 
again  with  the  pleasure  of  looking  at  her ! 


THE    DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE.  29 

«  Why,  of  course,  you  may,"  said  he. 

"  Then,  Mr.  Fitzcarol,  I  want  you  to  see  me  to  and 
from  the  theatre  as  long  as  we  stay  in  this  town." 

Mr.  Fitzcarol  felt  once  more  as  if  he  "  held  a  posi 
tion." 

"Miss  Fanny,"  said  he,  "you  know  that  I  am 
always  alone,  and  must  feel  happy  in  attending  on  you. 
Heigho  !"  and  his  habitual  despondency  seemed  to  be 
smit  suddenly  with  a  vein  of  facetiousness.  "  If  I 
wasn't  quite  so  old,  and  only  had  my  nose,  eh  ?  ha,  ha ! 
By  the  by,  Miss  Fanny,  did  I  ever  show  you  the  litho 
graph  of  me  as  Count  Belino,  taken  while  I  was  a 
feature?" 

Miss  Fanny  promised,  soothingly,  to  look  at  it  in 
the  morning,  glancing  behind  at  the  same  time,  as  if 
afraid  of  being  overtaken.  Mr.  Fitz  said  he  didn't 
wonder  at  her  being  disgusted  with  that  deuced  old 
Mrs.  Dust,  and  so,  arriving  at  the  hotel,  they  parted. 

And  now  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins  to  her  dreams  ;  Mr. 
Fitz  to  his  musings  ;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dust  to  their  plans 
for  keeping  up  the  excitement ;  Mr.  Kemble  White  to 
the  sovereignty  of  the  bar-room,  and  the  "rest  of  the 
company"  to  whoever  might  notice  them  ;  and  thus 
ended  the  first  night  of  the  season  in  Pokerville. 


THE  GREAT  POKERVILLE  PRELIMINARIES. 

Three  whole  days,  and  the  great  small  affair  com 
pany  continued  to  "  draw."  The  Palladium  was  a  semi- 
weekly,  and  this  morning  Mr.  Oscar  Dust  and  the  drama 
in  Pokerville  had  been  duly  noticed  in  two  columns, 


30  THE   DRAMA   IN   POKERVILLE. 

A  career  unexampled  in  theatrical  annals  was  "  fore 
seen"  for  the  manager,  and  highly  exciting  intimations 
were  thrown  out  with  regard  to  a  "  tribute  of  genius" 
about  to  be  offered  on  the  part  of  "  one  of  our  first 
citizens !" 

It  was  a  fine  morning,  and  Major  Slope,  accom 
panied  by  Mrs.  Major  Slope,  was  driving  into  town, 
spitting  alternately  to  the  right  and  left  of  the  horse's 
tail,  and  muttering  again  something  about  fashionable 
e-klat. 

"  That  is  my  affair,  Major  Slope,"  rattled  the  lady. 
"If  you  won't  retain  the  lead,  I  will ;  and,  if  you  don't 
know  how  to  entertain  artistes  of  distinction,  I  do. 
Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  has  received  the  homage  of  every  per 
son  of  genius  in  the  country,  as  you  may  see  from  her 
scrap-book,  and,  if  I  have  a  characteristic,  it  is  my 
appreciation  of  genius." 

Major  Slope  told  the  horse  to  «  g'long,"  and  then 
asked  «  Why  it  must  be  a  dinner  ?" 

«'  Because,  Major,  artistes  are  always  engaged  in  the 
evening,  and  it  would  be  too  late  to  drive  out  of  town 
after  the  performance.  I  might  arrange  a  dejunior  a  la 
toohpuk,  in  the  French  style ;  but  that  again  would 
interfere  with  the  rehearsals.  If  I  have  a  characteris 
tic,  it  is  in  obviating  difficulties,  and  it  must  be  a 
dinner." 

«  For  the  whole  crowd  ?"  demanded  the  major. 

"  That's  just  what  I'm  driving  into  town  to  consult 
Mrs.  Dust  about.     Mr.  Henry  Charles  Johnson,  per 
haps,  may  be  well  enough  ;  he  has  a  musical  reputa 
tion  ;  but  the  number  of  subordinates — besides,  I  have 
a  few  questions  to  ask  respecting  Miss  Wilkins." 

«  Um,"  grunted  the  major,  «  you'd  better  ask  them 


THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  31 

of  your  cousin,  Dr.  Slunk ;  he  is  tolerably  well  ac 
quainted  with  her,  people  think." 

"  That's  it" — but  let  us  drive  on  to  the  hotel,  as  the 
major  did  ;  go  up  stairs,  as  his  wife  did,  and  find  Mrs. 
Oscar  Dust  taking  a  wine  julep,  as,  in  summer,  she 
always  did. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Dust ;  so  like  me  in  every  thing!" 
And  the  ladies  expressed  their  mutual  sympathy  by 
sharing  their  straw.  They  were  not  long  either  in 
making  full  arrangements  with  regard  to  the  contem 
plated  "testimonial."  The  occasion,  of  course,  was 
to  be  in  compliment  to  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  «  characteristic"  of  the  tasteful  hospitality 
of  Mrs.  Major  Slope — both  points  to  be  fully  attended 
to  in  the  Palladium.  Mr.  Kemble  White,  from  his 
"  position,"  might  certainly  be  invited,  and  Mrs.  Oscar 
Dust  even  suggested  the  name  of  «  poor  old  Waters." 
He  had  known  her  through  her  whole  career,  and  was 
an  obliging  creature — all  of  which  simply  meant  that, 
patronizing  the  "  classic  veteran,"  whenever  Mrs.  Oscar 
Dust  told  a  stretcher,  he  was  expected  to  swear  to  it. 
As  to  Mr.  H.  C.  Johnson,  the  leader,  he  certainly  was 
an  inimitable  "  solo"  player,  (as  he  ought  to  be,  see 
ing  that  he  never  played  any  thing  else,)  and  Mrs. 
Major  Slope  might  exercise  her  discretion  with  regard 
to  Mr.  Fitzcarol — really,  a  very  harmless  creature. 
Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  saw  nothing  to  stand  in  his  way,  if 
his  nose  didn't,  and  that  didn't  stand  in  any  waj, 
heaven  knows ! 

But  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  had  said  nothing  about  Miss 
Fanny  Wilkins,  and  so  Mrs.  Major  Slope  "Aem'd," 
and  observed  that  Dr.  Slunk  would  expect  to  be  there, 
of  course^  on  which  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  «  haw^d"  evi- 


32  THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE. 

dently  in  very  great  distress,  and  then  she  thought  a 
moment,  with  her  head  down ;  and  then  she  looked, 
with  a  troubled  expression,  at  the  wall ;  and  next,  with 
even  a  more  intense  expression,  into  the  looking-glass, 
and  her  emotion  confirmed,  as  it  were,  by  this  last 
glance,  she  threw  her  eyes,  appealingly,  full  upon  Mrs. 
Major  Slope,  and  exclaimed  with  touching  abandon-* 

"  You  know  the  misfortune  of  our  profession." 

Mrs.  Major  Slope's  worst  fears  were  confirmed. 
There  was  a  painful  embarrassment  for  at  least  several 
seconds — especially  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust. 
Mrs.  Major  Slope  first  broke  silence  with  a  sigh. 

"  So  modest  in  her  appearance,  too  !" 

"  I  have  been  much  deceived !"  said  Mrs.  Oscar 
Dust,  drawing  in  her  breath  and  shuddering,  as  if  at  a 
sudden  change  of  the  moral  temperature. 

"  So  really  good-looking  /"  observed  Mrs.  Major  S. 

"  Her  manner  is  superior,"  said  Mrs.  Oscar,  hypo 
critically  ;  "  I  had  taken  great  pains  with  her." 

"  And  then  so  talented — and  such  a  favorite  /"  ding- 
dong'd  Mrs.  Major.  The  manageress  and  "leading 
lady"  moved  uneasily  on  her  chair,  as  if  these  regrets 
were  not  exactly  of  the  right  key,  and  then,  by  way 
of  attracting  some  of  the  interest  to  herself,  she  burst 
into  tears,  and  exclaimed,  in  a  heart- wringing  tone, 

"  What  she  might  have  been !" 

Her  suffering  was  too  real — too  keen — not  at  once 
to  make  her  the  object  of  first  attention  ;  and  Mrs. 
Major  Slope,  essentially  kind-hearted  with  all  her  fuss, 
consoled  her  not  only  <c  like  a  sister,"  but  like  a  whole 
family.  At  this  moment  a  heavy  tramp  and  a  loud 
whistling  was  heard  in  the  passage,  and  immediately 
entered  the  enormous  wench  mentioned  as  carrying  the 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  33 

basket.  She  was  in  the  middle  of  the  room  before  she 
finished  her  tune,  and  she  bore  across  her  arm  a  suit 
of  cotton  "fleshings"  belonging  to  Mr.  Oscar  Dust, 
new  washed. 

«  My  ole  Missy,"  said  she,  "  Massa  Bus'  nebber  git 
dis  yer  skin  on  agin,  sure  ;  he  done  rubbed  his  bones 
clean  through,"  and  she  ran  her  hand  through  divers 
abrasions  in  an  unmentionable  part  of  the  said  skin. 

«  Lay  them  aside>  Cynthia,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Oscar, 
"  Mr.  Dust  will  wear  his  silks,"  and  then  she  added, 
in  a  low  voice,  to  Mrs.  Major,  «  That  is  the  letter- 
bearer  !" 

Cynthia  had  not  much  the  appearance  of  a  carrier- 
pigeon,  however  she  might  whistle  like  a  mocking 
bird  ;  but  Mrs.  Major  Slope  eyed  her  as  if  she  expected 
to  detect  a  billet  tied  with  blue  riband  under  each 
pinion ;  then,  recalled  by  Mrs.  Oscar's  growing  dis 
tress,  she  resumed  her  attentions,  and,  soothingly,  sent 
Cynthia  for  another  julep. 

«  Yes,  the  letter-carrier  /"  repeated  Mrs.  Dust,  as 
soon  as  the  wench  was  gone  ;  "  she  bore  one  from  the 
doctor  to  Miss  Wilkins  the  day  after  her  arrival,  and 
several  since — I  bribed  her  to  confess  it ;  and  that  Dr. 
Slunk  is  also  in  the  habit  of  frequenting  this  passage — 
here,  near  me,  Mrs.  Major !  His  object " 

Mrs.  Dust  was  again  overpowered  by  her  feelings; 
but  came  the  tramp  and  whistle,  and  next  the  julep, 
and  gradually  she  subsided  from  the  hysteric  to  the 
tender  melancholic,  and  entered  into  a  deeply  touch 
ing  narrative  of  her  own  early  triumphs  over  tempta 
tion.  «  Poor  old  Waters  knew  it  all !" 

«  The  cry  was,  as  you  say,  that  I  was  so  talented, 
and  such  a  favorite  !  a  thousand  wild  idolatries  were 

3 


34  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

offered  to  me.  Young  Shucks,  son  of  the  governor — 
since  in  Congress — immense  estate — sought  to  prevail 
with  maiden  passion ;  but  I  hold  that  every  virtuous 
woman  has  her  angel,  Mrs.  Major.  I  was  impregnable  ! 
He  offered  private  marriage;  but  I,  too,  had  a  pride. 
Never  will  Waters  forget  my  answer  !  «  Henry,'  said 
I,  <-  if  wealth  were  mine,  how  gladly  would  I  share  it 
with  you  ;  but  never  shall  the  Shucks  reproach  you 
with  wedding  one  whose  sole  misfortune  was  in  being 
friendless  !*  I  was  then  but  her  age,  Mrs.  Slope." 

It  was  indeed  a  surprising  speech  for  only  eighteen ! 
,and  deserving  of  this  admiration  thirty  years  after 
wards.  And,  now,  it  might  as  well  be  mentioned,  in 
explanation  of  the  deep  grief  and  guardian-like  anxiety 
which  this  elderly  lady  felt  with  regard  to  Miss  Fanny 
Wilkins,  that,  in  the  last  town  of  Coonsborough,  a 
violent  paper  war  had  been  carried  on  between  two 
critics  as  to  the  merits  of  these  two  public  favorites. 
Miss  Fanny  Wilkins  had,  hitherto,  been  a  mere  "  no 
body,"  and,  all  of  a  sudden,  to  find  her  raised  up  as  a 
rival — praised  for  her  grace  and  beauty,  and  applauded 
to  the  echo  for  her  spirit ;  nay,  more,  to  hear  demands 
made  for  her  appearance  in  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust's  favorite 
youthful  part,  and,  these  refused,  to  see  herself  and 
benefit  neglected  by  a  public  that  had  for  years  drawn, 
as  it  were,  her  triumphant  car,  while  the  performances 
and  benefit  of  Miss  Wilkins  were  crowned  with  the  most 
dazzling  success.  All  this  was  too  much  for  the  time- 
worn  charities  of  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust.  «  Position" — ma 
nagement — nothing  could  stand  against  it.  She  already 
detected  unpleasant  symptoms  in  Pokerville,  notwith 
standing  Mrs.  D.  controlled  the  Palladium,  and  here 
was  a  chance  to  stem  the  torrent.  All  she  had  to  do 


THE   DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE.  35 

was  to  be  unwillingly  convinced  of  all  she  heard,  and 
to  look  very  grave  whenever  Dr.  Slunk  was  mentioned. 
This  dashing  gentleman  stopped  at  nothing,  as  every 
body  knew,  and,  to  say  the. least,  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins 
was  acting  very  strangely ! 

It  was  hardly  known,  indeed  not  very  often  inquired, 
where  Dr.  Slunk  had  got  his  diploma.  He  might,  cer 
tainly,  have  been  one  of  the  six  hundred  young  gen 
tlemen  who,  on  some  former  years,  had  been  duly  au 
thorized  to  direct  the  weeding  of  a  too  luxuriant  popu 
lation  ;  but  it  was  a  mere  formality,  "  any  how."  One 
thing  was  sufficiently  known :  that  Dr.  Slunk  was  «  death 
on  poker,"  and,  as  he  would  occasionally  undertake  to 
physic  niggers  by  the  whole  plantation — that  is,  con 
tract  for  so  many  pounds  of  calomel  the  season — he 
was  probably  death  at  that,  too.  At  any  rate,  he  be 
longed  to  "  one  of  the  first  families  in  Virginia,"  was  "  a 
perfect  gentleman  when  he  was  sober,"  and,  altogether, 
the  "big  dog"  at  Pokerville. 

"  No  !"  said  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  as  she  gratefully  ac 
cepted  the  straw  from  Mrs.  Major.  «  No — a  hallowed 
passion,  my  dear  friend — open  as  the  day  ;  no  bribing 
menials ;  no  sneaking  through  the  passage ;"  and,  if 
Dr.  Slunk  had  "been  caught  in  the  act,  and  dismissed 
with  a  kettle  tied  to  his  tail,  the  pained,  but  indignant, 
speaker  could  not  more  forcibly  have  expressed  her 
loathing  at  such  doings. 

"  And  have  you  seen  any  thing  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Major. 

"  /,  my  dear !  would  I  see  it — could  I  see  it,  Mrs. 
Slope?"  The  probability  is  that  she  could  not  have  seen 
it ;  but  the  appeal  was  a  clincher  the  other  \»ay  :  they 
would  endeavour  to  rescue  the  lost  girl,  but  no  contact 


36  THE   DRAMA   IN  POKERVILLE. 

beyond  that.  The  consideration  of  "  the  dinner"  was 
resumed,  and,  in  the  midst  of  it,  entered  Mr.  Busby 
Case  and  Dr.  Slunk. 

Mr.  Busby  Case  was  at  once  a  large  editor  and  a 
«  small  lawyer,"  with  a  broad  head  and  narrow  wit, 
seedy  coat  and  sharp  look.  Dr.  Slunk  had  a  fat  nose, 
bloodshot-eyes,  and  whiskers  almost  as  heavy  as  his 
figure,  which  latter  was  relieved,  however,  by  bright 
buttons,  and  the  display  of  jewelry  mentioned  hereto 
fore.  The  ladies  were  exceedingly  "  taken  back  ;" 
out  they  came  forward  again,  and  the  «  new  piece  in 
rehearsal"  naturally  led  to  the  dinner  in  preparation. 

"Comes  off  at  Major's,  eh?"  said  the  doctor.  "Little 
Wilkins  '11  be  there,  of  course  ;  let's  have  something 
young  about,  you  know."  Now,  this  was  accom 
panied  by  a  look  which  sufficiently  spoke  that  the  doc 
tor  was  aware  of  all  Mrs.  Dust's  anxiety  on  his  behalf. 

« It  really  ought  to  be  a  public  occasion,"  inter 
rupted  Mr.  Case.  «  Fill  the  whole  of  first  page  and 
immortalize  the  taste  of  the  town,  Mrs.  Dust." 

"Be  nothing  like  it  till  little  Wilkins's  benefit," 
chimed  in  Dr.  Slunk,  again  giving  Mrs.  D.  a  look. 
At  this  moment,  in  shuffled  Mr.  Oscar  Dust,  and  his 
ineffable  delight  at  seeing  Mrs.  Major  Slope  was  only 
damped  by  the  fact  that  Major  Slope  never  had  yet 
looked  in  upon  them  ;  and  he  was  very  glad  to  see 
Dr.  Slunk,  too,  within  their  own  apartments  (?) ;  and  he 
had  been  down  to  the  printing-office  to  attend  to  a 
little  matter,  but  he  had  found  the  boy,  and  it  was  all 
right ;  and  now  that  they  were  there,  mightn't  he  ring 
for  something  ? — meaning  sing  out  for  the  nigger.  And, 
in  the  midst  of  all  this,  Mrs.  Major  Slope  took  her  de 
parture,  first  embracing  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  affectionately, 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  37 

and  exchanging  with  her  looks  of  caution  and  com 
miseration  ;  and  then  the  gentlemen  did  "  take  some 
thing,"  and  afterwards  they  took  their  hats,  and, 
finally,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  were  left  alone  to  a 
confab. 

«  Mr.  Dust,"  said  the  lady,  very  haughtily,  «  unless 
you  wish  to  ruin  every  thing,  you  will  discharge  Miss 
Wilkins." 

Mr.  Dust  had  heard  of  the  scandal,  of  course ;  but 
he  was  used  to  evil  tongues,  and  now  his  thoughts 
naturally  regarding  ruin  as  only  being  connected  with 
the  receipts ,  he -replied — 

"  Pooh,  nonsense,  my  dear ;  I  tell  you  it  helps  the 
houses." 

«  Mr.  Dust ! — and  do  you  suppose  that  I  will  lend 
myself  to  this  ?" 

"  Why,  Mrs.  D.,  I'm  sure  you  ought.  You  can 
divide  the  matter  between  you,  and  there's  enough  for 
both  ?» 

"  Mr.  Dust !  would  you  have  me  forget  that  I  am 
your  wife  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am  ;  but  you  would  have  me  forget  that  I 
am  your  manager.  I  tell  you  once  more,  it  helps  the 
business." 

Mrs.  Dust,  perhaps,  would  have  been  wholly  indig 
nant,  if  she  wasn't  naturally  bound  to  be  first  asto 
nished. 

«  What !"  cried  she,  after  a  stare,  «  would  you 
make  the  theatre  a  temple  of  shame,  and  offer  up  your 
very  wife  upon  the  altar  of  infamy  ?" 

If  Mrs.  Dust  had  had  the  chance  of  that  speech  be 
fore  a  good  house,  she  would  have  been  allowed  to 
have  surpassed  even  her  grandest  efforts ! 


38  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

«  Why,  what  on  earth  are  you  talking  about  ?"  said 
Mr.  Dust. 

"Miss  Wilkins  and  Doctor  Slunk!"  cried  his  lady. 

«  My  God !  my  dear,  I  thought  you  were  at  the  old 
fuss,  about  dividing  the  parts  with  Fanny." 

«  Let  her  take  them  a//,  sir,  since  you  thus  regard 
it;"  and  Mrs.  Dust  walked  grandly  up  to  the  very 
small-sized  looking-glass,  to  be  satisfied  that  for  a 
woman  of  her  simply  matured  attractions,  she  was  the 
most  slighted  feminine  in  the  world. 

Mr.  Dust  was  an  assiduous  pacificator  when  he  could 
not  be  an  assured  despot,  and  he  promised  Mrs.  D. 
that  Miss  Wilkins  should  not  be  re-engaged  for  another 
season.  As  to  the  present  scandal,  he  believed  it  was 
all  started  by  Doctor  Slunk  himself,  and  at  any  rate,  he 
wished  his  scrupulous  spouse  to  take  things  quietly, 
give  up  a  part,  occasionally,  and  she  should  have  all 
the  puffing  in  the  paper.  "It  tells  abroad,  you  know, 
my  dear,"  said  he,  «  and  that's  all  we  want  it  for." 

And  now  the  indefatigable  Mr.  Dust  went  to  work, 
quill  and  foolscap,  to  make  the  most  out  of  the  dinner. 
In  the  first  place,  there  must  be  a  correspondence  be 
tween  Major  Slope  and  himself, — it  couldn't  be  carried 
on  in  the  name  of  ladies — and  therefore,  in  a  vein  of 
rapt  enthusiasm  he  sat  down  to  write  himself  a  letter. 

He  told  himself  that,  without  flattery,  looking  upon 
his  visit  to  Pokerville  as  the  most  auspicious  event 
which  had  happened  since  the  dawn  of  civilization  in 
that  favoured  region  ;  that  regarding  the  stage,  and  Mrs. 
Oscar  Dust,  as  highly  calculated  to  "  raise  the  manners 
and  refine  the  heart ;"  and  that,  moreover,  looking 
upon  Pokerville  as  the  future  centre  of  such  a  com 
merce,  trade,  and  business  as  the  world  had  never  yet 


THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE.  39 

beheld,  and  knowing  it  eager,  even  now,  to  show  more 
haughty  cities  (this  was  into  Coons-borough)  that  it  had 
a  heart  for  hospitality  and  a  soul  for  genius, — he,  on 
behalf  of  a  number  of  citizens  of  taste  and  respecta 
bility,  took  the  liberty  of  inviting  himself  and  Mrs. 
Oscar  Dust,  with  others,  to  an  entertainment  to  be 
given  on  the  ensuing  Saturday,  at  his  mansion,  Mount 
Hyacinthe,  near  Pokerville.  s  ^ 

Immediately,  then,  addressing  himself  at  Mount 
Hyacinthe,  near  Pokerville,  he  told  himself,  ingenu 
ously,  that  this  was  the  proudest  moment  of  his  life;  that 
overwhelmed  as  he  had  often  been  by  the  too  partial 
kindness  of  others,  he  would  say,  neighbour  cities,  (coals 
of  fire  on  Coons-borough  again,)  no  instance  of  appre 
ciation,  including  as  it  so  chivalrously  did,  the  hum 
ble  but  assiduous  talents  of  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  had  ever 
so  touched  his  heart  with  gratitude,  his  soul  with  the 
desire  to  deserve.  He  told  himself,  moreover,  that 
through  his  whole  theatrical  career,  his  sole  aim  had 
been  to  elevate  the  stage  ;  to  make  it  a  fitting  platform 
for  the  tread  of  Shakspeare!  and  he  needed  hardly 
remind  himself,  that,  in  this  arduous  but  glorious 
effort  he  had  been  aided  by  one — he  might  pardon 
himself  the  emotion — whose  toils  would  be  remem 
bered  perhaps  by  others  than  himself.  He  accepted 
then,  with  lively  pleasure,  the  invitation  he  had  so 
kindly  extended  to  himself  and  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  and 
he  would  meet  himself  and  his  friends  at  Mount  Hya 
cinthe  on  the  ensuing  Saturday. 

"  There,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Oscar  Dust,  « we'll 
have  the  correspondence,  followed  by  a  full  report  of 
the  banquet,  in  Monday's  Palladium.  Put  up  your 
benefit  for  that  night,  and  if  you  don't  have  a 


40  THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE. 

smasher,  with  at  least  six  wreaths,  say  I  don't  under 
stand  managing  the  Great  Small  Affair  Theatres,  that's 
all." 

The  carrier  pigeon  was  now  heard  whistling  in  the 
passage,  accompanying  herself  on  the  dinner  bell ;  Mrs. 
Oscar  Dust  threw  a  light  shawl  over  her  shoulders,  with 
a  "Sidonian"  majesty  of  action,  and  Mr.  D.  hurried  a 
step  or  two  in  advance  to  make  the  most  of  her  dining- 
hall  entrance. 


THE  GREAT  SMALL  AFFAIR  MYSTERY. 

Miss  FANNY  WILKINS  was  acting  strangely ;  the 
truth  might  as  well  be  told,  at  once.  She  neglected 
rehearsals  in  a  most  cavalier  manner ;  never  came  to 
table  ;  used  to  keep  her  door  locked  eternally,  and  as 
Doctor  Slunk  was  met,  more  than  once,  in  the  narrow 
passage  on  which  it  opened,  there  was  but  one  infer 
ence  to  be  drawn,  namely,  that  as  the  door  had  two 
sides  to  it,  the  Dr.  was  a  man  to  select  the  more  so 
ciable  of  them.  To  be  sure,  Mr.  Fitzcarol  saw  her  to 
and  from  the  theatre  in  the  evenings,  and  mornings 
also,  whenever  she  went,  but  wasn't  it  the  plainest 
thing  in  the  world  that  this  was  all  art ;  a  phiz-bat 
tered,  soft-headed,  gizzard-tickled  old  die-away,  he 
knew  no  better;  he  was  even  unconscious  that  he  was 
the  quiz  of  the  town,  and  that  the  tremendous  applause 
which  he  received  at  night  for  every  song,  and  even 
every  speech,  was  due  entirely  to  the  popular  appre 
ciation  of  his  good-natured  gallantry.  Catch  Mr. 
Kemble  White  making  such  a  "pump"  of  himself. 


THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  41 

He  rather,  on  the  contrary,  affected  the  mode  Slunk ; 
mounting  extra  breast-pins,  sticking  his  thumbs  in  the 
arm-holes  of  his  vest,  his  hat  thrown  back,  his  heels 
thrown  forward,  &c.  He  "  never  troubled  himself 
about  the  women-matters  in  the  theatre."  As  to  Mr. 
Busby  Case,  he  had  entirely  yielded  the  track  to  his 
formidable  rival.  In  the  mean  time,  these  improper 
proceedings  on  the  part  of  Miss  Wilkins  brought  their 
own  punishment,  as  they  always  do,  and  she  was  evi 
dently  neither  well  nor  happy  ;  her  acting  and  dancing 
— particularly  the  latter — was  applauded  by  the  men, 
but  there  was  much  talk  in  the  church-going  circles.  A 
great  many  of  the  ladies  began  to  decline  going,  and 
those  who  did  go  used  to  say,  «  What  a  pity!" 

"You're  not  invited!"  said  Mr.  Fitz  to  Miss  Fanny, 
the  night  before  the  banquet,  as  he  was  seeing  her  home 
from  the  theatre.  "  Why,  I  thought  we  were  all  in 
vited  !" 

«  All  but  me,  I  have  been  told,"  said  Miss  Fanny. 

«  Why,  gracious  Heaven,  Miss  Fanny,  a  lady  of  your 
position !"  The  mystery  of  this  extraordinary  slight 
completely  enveloped  the  faculties  of  the  «  first  singer." 
At  length,  as  if  a  distant  ray  had  served  to  render 
darkness  visible,  he  exclaimed: 

« I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if  Mrs.  Dust  has 
been  saying  something  about  you  !  Do  you  know,  that 
I've  often  thought  that  she's  never  liked  you  since  youi 
Coons-borough  benefit?" 

«  We  shall  soon  part,  I  hope,"  said  Fanny. 

«  But,  dear  me  !  won't  it  seem  very  strange  ?     Why, 
it's  a  cruel  affront !"  cried  the  vocalist,  his  voice  sud 
denly  becoming  round,  and  his  nostrils — would  it  had 
been  his  nose — dilating. 
Q 


_£  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKER VILLE. 

"  You  shall  not  be  the  only  member  of  the  company 
absent,  Miss  Fanny  ;  I  should  blush  while  sitting  with 
them;  and  so  should  all  the  rest  of  us,  Pm  sure!" 

Could  it  be  possible,  Fanny  was  positively  weeping! 
and  when  her  companion  perceived  it,  he  was  seized 
with  a  sort  of  choking  himself,  which  he  attempted  to 

conceal  by  giving  his nose  a  violent  blow,  and, 

altogether,  he  acted  little  other  than  "  spoony,"  as  the 
saying  is.  Fanny,  at  length,  dried  her  eyes  and  threw 
herself  back  on  her  pride  ;  whatever  she  was,  she  was 
no  groveller. 

"You  are  very  kind,  Mr.  Fitzcarol,  and  I  shall  be 
grateful  to  you  as  long  as  I  live,  but  you  must  not 
stay  away  on  my  account,  I  would  rather  you  would 
not." 

"Miss  Wilkins,"  said  her  companion,  and  his  tone 
grew  actually  musical  with  emotion,  "  I  could  not  feel 
like  a  gentleman  at  their  table ;  on  my  own  account  I 
shall  avoid  their  company." 

Fanny's  heart  throbbed,  and  her  color  mantled,  as  if 
she  had  heard  in  those  tones  the  challenge  of  her 
champion  knight ;  but  she  looked  in  his  face,  and  albeit 
she  saw  an  earnest  glance  from  the  eyes,  yet,  owing 
to  the  zig-zag  expression  mentioned  heretofore,  it  was 
impossible  to  tell  the  precise  direction  of  it,  and  the 
effect  was  marred  proportionately. 

"But  you  will  not  mention  me  in  connection  with 
your  declining?"  said  Fanny,  anxiously. 

"  Why,  how  could  I,  Miss  Fanny ;  contempt  don't 
enter  into  explanations !" 

Again  Fanny  looked  up,  and  then  it  crossed  her 
mind  that  poor  Fitzcarol — good-natured  fellow — might 
have  retained  a  more  heroic  nose,  had  he  possessed  a 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  43 

less  generous  heart :  she  remembered  the  nature  of  the 
accident  which  had  disfigured  him. 

A  few  moments  brought  them  to  the  steps  of  the 
hotel,  when  Cynthia,  suddenly  stopping  her  flagiolet 
practice,  whispered  hurriedly  to  Fanny,  who  thereupon 
bade  her  escort  adieu,  and  ran  up-stairs,  very  myste 
riously. 


THE  GREAT  POKERVILLE  RE-UNION. 

NOT  the  least  of  Mrs.  Major  Slope's  triumph,  con 
nected  with  the  present  occasion,  was  the  complete  over 
throw  and  subjugation  of  Mrs.  Wilson  of  «  store-shed" 
pretension.  Feeling  that,  from  the  position  which  she  had 
achieved  in  Pokerville  society,  she  could  afford  to  ven 
ture  an  advance  without  danger  of  compromising  herself, 
she  no  sooner  had  secured  the  Great  Small  Affair  dinner 
against  failure,  than  she,  like  a  good  soul  as  well  as 
an  able  tactician,  made  a  call  upon  her  less  genius-gifted 
rival,  explained  herplans,  dexterously  requested  advice, 
and  secured  a  faithful  second  fiddle  for  ever  afterwards, 
by  insisting  that  her  friend,  Mrs.  Wilson,  should  join 
with  her  at  once  in  making  preparations  for  the  fete, ! 
There  was  Pokerville  generalship.  Mrs.  Major  Slope, 
by  a  single  manoeuvre,  not  only  secured  the  eclat  and 
the  fruits  of  victory,  but  bound  her  rival  to  her  car,  a 
three-fold  captive,  in  that  she  fancied  herself  an  ally. 

And  this  was  the  very  day,  and  a  lovely  one  it  was, 
and  emulous  as  it  were  of  propitious  nature,  Mr.  Wil 
son's  boat — he  owned  a  steamboat  as  well  as  the  store- 
shed — arrived,  having  made  a  "  bully  trip,"  and  bring 
ing  with  her  as  usual  Mr.  Tom  Sky,  her  "  dandy  clerk,' 


44  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

the  only  human  who  had  yet  ventured  to  walk  Poker- 
ville  with  yellow  kids  on. 

A  decided  show  of  anxiety  might  have  been  de 
tected  about  town,  if  people  had  looked  closely,  and 
there  was  a  lively  sensation  pervading  the  "  first  fami 
lies,"  each  house  having  two  or  three  penitent-looking 
females,  wandering  from  room  to  room,  all  in  white 
with  powder  on  their  faces,  and  their  hair  streaming 
over  their  shoulders,  preparatory  to  its  being  "  done 
up."  People,  too,  would  stop  each  other  hurriedly  in 
the  street,  and  ask  each  other,  "  when  they  were  going 
out  ?"  while  at  the  billiard-room  and  the  bar-rooms  of 
the  principal  hotel,  the  whole  matter,  from  the  uncom 
monly  late  hour  of  sitting  down,  three  o'clock,  to  the 
probability  as  to  who  would  rise  sober,  was  under  ac 
tive  discussion.  Matters  at  the  theatre  were  despatched 
in  short  order,  as  may  be  supposed,  «  old  pieces"  were 
«  put  up,"  so  as  not  to  embarrass  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  through 
the  day  with  her  evening  responsibilities ;  Mr.  Oscar 
was  already  half  through  a  report  of  the  proceedings 
as  they  were  to  take  place ;  and  Mr.  Kemble  White,  in 
white  cotton  gloves,  was  impressing  upon  Mr.  Waters 
and  Mr.  Johnson  the  importance  of  "  mingling  in 
society,"  strengthening  his  arguments  at  the  same  time 
with  an  irresistible  odour  of  cologne.  As  to  Miss 
Fanny  Wilkins,  she  was,  doubtless,  locked  in  her  room, 
as  usual ;  and  as  to  Mr.  Fitzcarol,  he  was  wherever  his 
humour  happened  to  call  him. 

1  P.  M. ,  at  Mount  Hyacinthe.  The  affair  was  to  be 
unique  in  all  its  details,  and  the  guests  had  been  re- 
q_ested  to  assemble  early  to  a  lunch  and  fine  language, 
and  sure  as  a  gun,  not  one  of  the  regulars  was  behind- 


THE    DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE.  45 

hand!  "Both  rooms"  had  been  prepared;  two  extra 
busts  of  La  Fayette  (not  a  Shakspeare  in  all  Poker- 
ville)  being  added  to  the  sculpture,  three  highly  coloured 
"American  naral  victories,"  completing  the  walls,  and 
a  perfect  arabesque  of  blue  and  yellow  fly-paper  netting 
finishing  off  the  ceiling.  Then,  of  course,  on  side-tables 
were  vases  of  artificial  flowers,  infinitely  to  be  pre 
ferred  to  the  natural  ones  without ;  the  piano,  with  all 
Mrs.  Wilson's,  as  well  as  all  Mrs.  Major  Slope's  music, 
stood  open  at  one  end,  and  a  groaning  «  centre  table," 
proudly  exhibiting  the  collected  annuals  of  the  town, 
crowned  by  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust's  own  scrap-book,  stood 
in  its  becoming  place. 

Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  of  course,  had  not  been  the  first  to 
arrive,  and  of  course  no  grandeur  had  come  off  before 
that  interesting  moment ;  besides,  as  everybody  had 
fixed  in  their  minds  upon  something  remarkably  clever, 
which  they  were  to  do  impromptu,  everybody  felt  a 
sort  of  impending  responsibility  ;  there  was  a  general 
zir-preoccupe,  as  we  say  in  Dunkirk.  Mr.  Kemble 
White  was  not  an  exception  ;  Doctor  Slunk  had  not 
yet  arrived,  to  ask  him  to  «  fire  up,"  and  though  he 
had  looked  for  better  things  at  the  hands  of  his  white 
cottons,  it  was  not  long  before  he  painfully  found  that 
they  added  to  his  embarrassment.  He  finally  devoted 
himself  to  the  exclusive  patronage  of  Mr.  H.  C.  John 
son,  on  the  back  «  stoop." 

"  There's  the  Dusts  !"  and,  sure  enough,  there  they 
came,  in  a  cloud  of  it — as  also  in  Mrs.  Major  Slope's 
own  carnage.  There  was  a  rush,  of  course,  on  the 
part  of  the  ladies,  to  the  piazza,  from  which  Mrs.  Ma 
jor  Slope  and  Mrs.  WTilson  descended  to  the  gate. 
Mrs.  Major  Slope's  new  Irish  gardener,  as  footman, 


46  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKER  VILLE. 

lowered  the  steps,  when  out  popped  Mr.  Manager  Dust, 
bowing  with  great  dexterity  to  the  ladies,  without  for 
getting,  at  the  same  time,  to  exhibit  an  affectionate 
anxiety  for  the  connubial  treasure  in  the  vehicle.  The 
classic  veteran,  Mr.  Waters,  came  next — Mrs.  Oscar 
insisted  that  he  should  ride  with  her,  « like  a  good 
creature,"  and  had  availed  herself  of  the  time  to  recall 
to  his  mind,  inadvertently,  such  of  her  favourite 
stretches,  as  might  perhaps  require  testimony,  during 
the  banquet.  Now  came  the  queen  of  the  occasion,  in 
red  velvet,  rather  unseasonable,  but  then  it  had  been  sent 
over  to  her  by  «  Kitty  Stephens — now  Countess  of  Es 
sex  ;  it  was  one  of  the  Victoria  coronation  dresses ; 
and  Waters  knew  that  Mrs.  Oscar  had  never  worn  it, 
except  on  similar  complimentary  occasions !  Mrs. 
Oscar  Dust  descended,  we  say, -and  with  a  dignified 
familiarity  she  kissed  the  two  fair  gate-keepers,  and 
they  kissed  her,  and  then  they  together  ascended  the 
piazza,  Mr.  Dust  and  the  veteran  following,  and  Cyn 
thia,  who  had  been  borrowed  from  the  hotel,  for  gran 
deur,  bringing  up  the  rear. 

The  « lunch"  and  dining-rooms  occupiedvthe  other 
half  of  the  ground  floor  at  Mount  Hyacinthe,  for  the 
mansion  was  a  "  double"  one,  and  it  hadn't  taken 
long  to  move  the  beds  ;  and  the  ladies  had  all  taken 
some  julep,  and  the  gentlemen  had  all  taken  it 
"  plain,"  and  now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  they  were 
all  in  the  midst  of  a  morning  sworry,  as  Mrs.  Wilson 
had  it. 

There  were  the  «  Bagly  Gals  ;"  Miss  Mirny  Hunter, 
of  a  decided  literary  taste,  receiving  the  Vinaigrette, 
published  at  the  east,  regularly  every  month  ; — all  the 
"Davis"  crowd,"  including  the  grandmother,  who  had 


THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE.  47 

danced  with  General  Washington  ! — the  Smiths,  down 
from  the  saw-mill,  and  the  Browns,  up  from  the 
landing,  &c.  &c.  Then  there  was  the  Honourable 
Jackson  Spence,  postmaster  ;  General  Bung  of  the  ho 
tel,  Judge  Plug,  Major  Slug,  Colonel  Mug,  &c.  &c., 
and  Mr.  Busby  Case,  Esq.,  of  course.  In  the  way  of 
art,  there  was  Mr.  Shade,  who  was  now  engaged  upon 
a  full  length  portrait  of  Mrs.  Major  Slope  ;  Quills,  of 
the  book  and  fancy  store,  who  played  the  guitar ;  and 
young  Mr.  Jake  Bagly,  who  had  been  turned  away 
from  West  Point  for  slitting  General  Jackson's  mouth, 
(pictorial,)  and  sticking  a  cigar  in  it !  This  ingenious 
youth  had  very  long  legs,  a  stork  neck,  a  bowie  knife 
sticking  out  at  his  vest,  and  a  very  lively  tint  of  to 
bacco  embellishing  each  corner  of  his  mouth.  We 
"  havn't  begun"  to  mention  them  all,  but  there  they  all 
were,  and  every  one  of  their  names,  already,  as  pat  on 
the  end  of  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust's  tongue  as  could  be,  while. 
Mr.  Oscar  Dust  was  no  less  zealously  fortifying  himself 
within  the  citadel  of  the  gentlemen's  patronage  and 
affections. 

Mrs.  Wilson,  we  are  sorry  to  say,  hadn't  a  spark  of 
the  ideal  about  her ;  it  was  in  this  that  she  fell  below 
Mrs.  Major  Slope.  In  the  first  place,  she  was  vulgarly 
curious  as  to  the  quality  of  the  coronation-robe  velvet; 
and  in  the  second  place,  she  could  not  realize  the  pos 
sibility  of  a  female  named  "  Kitty"  ever  being  elevated 
to  the  «  golden  round"  of  a  coronet ! 

"  And  she  used  to  sing  on  the  stage,  too  ?" 

"  The  queen  of  ballad,  my  dear." 

«  Ah,  well,  I  always  preferred  straight-forward  sing 
ing  myself,  to  this  screwmatic  music  !" 

«  The  ballad  !   Mrs.  Wilson    is  the  natural  lyrical 


48  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

expression  of  the  emotions.  I  mentioned  to  you,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Major" — and  here  Mrs.  Oscar  dropped  both 
eyelids  for  a  moment,  and  heaved  a  fat  sigh — "  I  men 
tioned  to  you  a  tender  souvenir  of  earlier  years.  Some 
lines,  treasured  in  this  volume,  (the  scrap  book,)  are  a 
pro  poSj  and  might  interest  you,  knowing,  as  you  do, 
the  circumstances." 

And  now  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  got  into  a  perfect  maze 
and  perplexity  in  endeavouring  to  find  the  page  ;  and 
really  she  feared  some  one  must  have  removed  it ;  and 
then  she  had  it,  but — no,  that  was  the  complimentary 
letter  from  the  late  President ;  and  then,  this  was  the 
celebrated  Miss  Harriet  Martinet's  private  criticism 
upon  her  Lady  Macbeth,  and  ah-*-no,  the  other  was 
the  French  king's  own  note  to  the  American  artist,  Mr. 
Chrome,  desiring  him  to  paint  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  (among 
other  distinguished  democrats,)  for  his  private  gallery 
of  contemporary  genius ! 

«  You  remember,  Mr.  Waters  ?"  continued  the  self- 
entrapped  lady,  for  she  really  blushed  all  over  at  being 
betrayed  into  these  explanations — « you  remember, 
after  all,  that  poor  Chrome  was  any  thing  but  satisfied 
with  himself!" 

« Oh,  of  course,"  said  the  veteran,  but  he  spoke 
rather  sulkily,  and  stuck  his  hands  in  his  side-pockets, 
and  didn't  seem  to  be  any  more  satisfied  than  the  art 
ist  had  been.  In  fact,  Mr.  Waters  had  not  been  made 
exactly  at  home,  and  he  only  came  out  "  to  oblige" 
any  how ;  and  the  king  of  the  French  sketch  he  had 
always  rather  stuck  at,  remembering  that  the  portrait 
in  question  had  been  painted  for  a  season  ticket,  was 
subsequently  set  up  at  a  raffle,  and  now  adorned  a  bar- 
mom  in  one  of  the  Great  Small  Affair  towns,  Mrs.  Os- 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  49 

car,  though,  didn't  mind  his  ways,  for  he  was  such  a 
good  creature  with  all  his  eccentricity ! 

«  Ah,  here  it  is !"  said  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  and  she 
pointed  it  out  to  Mrs.  Major  Slope,  for,  trust  herself  to 
read  it,  she  really  couldn't.  Mrs.  Major  was  just  about 
to  indulge  a  favourite  taste  of  hers — reading  poetry 
aloud — and  the  more  expressive  faces  were  adjusting 
themselves  to  a  look  of  rapt  intensity,  in  order  to  do  jus 
tice  to  certain  stanzas,  commencing, 

"  Child  of  grandeur " 

and  signed  "  Henry,"  when  a  whirl  upon  the  road 
suddenly  recalled  them,  and  anon,  one  of  the  ladies 
crying  out  "  Mr.  Sky !"  even  Mrs.  Major  Slope  herself 
put  down  the  book.  '* 

There  was  Mr.  Tom  Sky,  truly,  in  a  buggy,  bright 
as  a  lark,  with  his  white  kids,  and  strapped  pants,  and, 
altogether,  a  very  knowing-looking  character,  and  be 
side  him  sat  a  gentleman  with  a  heavy  and  inflamed 
face,  but  withal  a  blue  coat  and  brass  buttons,  yellow 
trowsers,  white  vest,  and  English  drab  hat.  He  wiped 
his  brow,  too,  with  a  cambric  handkerchief,  in  a  dis 
tingue  mode,  and,  altogether,  his  appearance,  perfect 
stranger  as  he  was,'  excited  a  deep  sensation.  Mr. 
Tom  Sky  lost  no  time  in  introducing  to  the  company, 
Mr.  Flush,  a  gentleman  whom  Mr.  Sky  knew  he  should 
be  thanked  for  bringing,  inasmuch  as,  that  Mr.  Flush 
was  just  one  of  themselves,  a  distinguished  literary 
character,  and  at  present  connected  with  the  eastern 
press  ! — that  is,  Mr.  Flush  was  agent  for  that  popular 
monthly,  the  Vinaigrette!  Mr.  Flush  was  a  recenl 
Londoner,  had  come  up  on  the  boat  with  Mr.  Sky, 
and  had  evidently  determined  in  his  own  mind  to  en 
courage  the  natives. 

4 


50  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

The  conversation  now  became  of  a  very  recherctie 
character.  The  duplicate  Lafayettes  were  discussed  in. 
good  set  phrase,  Mr.  Br>gly,  however,  taking  great 
pains  to  point  out  also  the  American  Naval  victories, 
as  \vell  as  to  make  some  extremely  native  remarks  about 
Bunker  Hill !  To  change  the  subject,  the  distinguished 
authors  of  Europe  were  brought  forward,  and  here  Mr. 
Flush  was  no  less  at  home,  though  his  admiration 
chiefly  settled  around  Chawles  Lamb,  who,  as  they  knew, 
of  course,  wrote  the  Essays  of  JJelia. 

"Indeed,"  said  Mr.  Flush,  "I've  doated  on  roast 
pig  ever  since  I  read  that  chawming  paper." 

"Well,  I  allow  you're  just  hunk,  this  time,  then," 
interposed  Mrs.  Wilson,  «  for  we  have  got  the  sweetest 
roaster  for  dinner  you  ever  did  see !" 

Mr.  Flush  chose  to  receive  this  announcement  not 
only  as  a  piece  of  pleasant  newrs,  but  also  as  a  piece 
of  pleasant  humour,  declaring  that  humour  was  the 
only  thing  he  missed  in  America,  the  people  being  all 
too  busy  to  joke  ;  and  then  he  declared  his  intention  of 
making  his  dinner  exclusively  on  roast  pig,  out  of  ven 
eration  for  the  memory  of  -Helia,  who  was  not  only  a 
wit  but  a  wag,  and  he  loved  waggery  of  all  things. 
Hereupon  Mr.  Jake  Bagly  proceeded  to  the  kitchen, 
and  bribed  the  black  cook  to  spit  a  remarkably  fine 
'possum,  which  hung  there,  instead  of  the  pig! 

Time  wore  away  delightfully,  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  short 
ening  it  with  a  few  of  her  stretchers,  and  appealing  to 
Mr.  Waters  for  the  details ;  and  Mr.  Flush  beginning 
to  feel  sufficiently  at  home  to  take  foreign  airs  on  him 
self,  when  another  whirl  on  the  road  announced  Dr. 
Slunk,  and  that  gentleman,  tolerably  "fired  up"  and  in 
an  evident  ill  humour,  "  paraded  himself." 


THE  DRAMA  IN  POKERVILLE.          51 


THE  GREAT  SMALL  AFFAIR  DINNER. 

Bang-ang-ang-r-r-r-ang-bang !  This  humorous  little 
startle  was  one  of  the  pleasant  effects  of  the  reconcilia 
tion  of  Mesdames  Slope  and  Wilson,  for  this  latter  lady 
knew  that  Mr.  Tom  Sky  had  a  gong  on  his  boat,  and 
she  not  only  borrowed  it  from  him,  but  got  him  to  ring 
it  now  at  the  parlor  door — the  first  time  that  dinner  had 
been  thus  sonorously  announced  in  Pokerville.  A 
general  scream  was  succeeded  by  a  wide  laugh,  this 
again  subsiding  into  a  giggling  declaration  that  that 
awful  noise  had  ruined  their  appetites,  and  anon  there 
was  a  pairing  off  to  the  dining-room;  everybody  going 
with  somebody  apparently,  but,  somehow  or  other, 
leaving  Mr.  Kemble*Whhe  and  his  white  cottons,  the 
classic  veteran,  and  Mr.  Johnson,  in  a  sort  of  a  triangu 
lar  isolation. 

"  White,  this  is  what  you  call  mixing  in  society !  is 
it !"  said  Mr.  Waters,  with  a  sort  of  burnt  cork  offended 
dignity  in  the  contraction  of  his  eye-brows. 

"  Suffering,  my  boy! — In  pain,"  muttered  Mr.  White, 
shaking  his  head,  and  touching  his  side,  as  if  excruciat 
ing  agony  alone  had  prevented  him  from  taking  the 
head  of  the  column.  "Bile!"  added  he,  as  perfectly 
conversant  with  the  symptoms,  "Bile,  sir,  bile!" 

Young  Mr.  Bagly  now  made  his  appearance  with  a 
sort  of  lazy  leer  on  his  countenance,  and  invited  them 
to  «  come  along  if  they  wanted  to  see  sport." 

«  Bile,"  repeated  Mr.  White,  «  bile !  must  stick  it 
out,  though !"  and  away  he  went  in  reckless  defiance 
of  a  bilious  cholic,  at  least. 

The  Great  Small  Affair  dinner  had  been  "  extensively 


52  THE    DRAMA   IN    POKERVTLLE. 

laid  out,"  depend  upon  it.  In  a  few  words,  the 
Pokerville  market  had  been  exhausted — to  be  sure  the 
beef  and  mutton  were  lean — it  not  being  a  grazing 
country;  and  the  vegetables  were  scarce — nothing  being 
raised  but  cotton ;  and  the  fish  was  salt — the  nigger 
lot  having  caught  any  fresh  ;  and  the  poultry  was 
poor — the  people  not  caring  much  about  it ;  but  there 
was  that  "  roastzr"  in  all  its  steemy  savor,  already 
carved  and  pervading  every  nostril !  Again,  there  was 
a  magnificent  ham,  all  green  and  yellow — as  the  egg 
and  minced  pickle  mingled  ;  bacon  and  greens,  too, 
sent  up  their  inviting  fragrance,  and  a  shoat  stew  was 
not  "  slow"  when  one  went  into  it.  Decanters,  then, 
of  every  tint,  and  "any  quantity"  of  transparent,  long 
necked  bottles,  with  labels  on  them,  bearing  anchors, 
stars,  and  other  devices — "prem&re  quality"  and  all 
guarantied  to  "  pop,"  by  Mr.  Wilson,  of  the  store-shed, 
who  had  "  furnished  the  wines."  Then  for  the  com 
pany,  they  were  artfully  arranged — streak  of  fat  and 
streak  of  lean  fashion— so  as  to  increase  their  own 
relish  for  themselves.  Mr.  Busby  Case  sat  at  the  head, 
(Major  Slope  having  contrived  to  be  accidentally  wanted 
at  his  upper  plantation,  ten  miles  off,)  with  Mrs.  Oscar 
Dust  on  one  side  and  Mrs.  Major  Slope  on  the  other, 
while  Mr.  Tom  Sky  took  the  foot,  between  Mrs.  Wilson 
and  Miss  Mirny  Hunter.  Mr.  Flush  sat  next  on  the  side 
to  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  and  next  to  Mrs.  Wilson,  on  the 
eide,  sat  Mr.  Manager  Dust.  Dr.  Slunk  was  placed 
between  the  Bagly  Gals  ;  Mr.  Wilson,  who  had  come 
from  lord  knows  where,  and  got  to  the  table,  lord 
knows  how — a  round  bashful-looking  man — sat  between 
"the  Davis's" — Mr.  Shade — Mr.  Bagly — pshaw,  never 
oiind, — yes,  we  must  mention  by-the-by,  that  Messrs^ 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  53 

White,  Waters,  and  Johnson,  were  stuck  together, 
fenced  in  at  one  end  by  the  elderly  lady  who  had  seen 
Washington,  and,  at  the  other,  by  deaf  Miss  Smith  of 
the  wharf-boat  family.  •; *•••' 

"  A  little  of  the  roast,  if  you  please."  "  Oh,  the 
pig,  of  course  !"  "  Me,  also,  Mr.  Case — some  of  the 
brown,  you  know."  «  Stop,  not  till  after  Mrs.  Dust." 
"None  of  the  stuffin' !"  «  Some  of  the  slickin's  !" 
Oh,  for  an  active  pen  and  an  easy  stomach  to  do  jus 
tice  to  the  feeders  on  the  present  occasion !  Mrs.  Dust 
fairly  vied,  in  singleness  of  purpose,  with  Mr.  Flush, 
and  between  them  that  pig  received  praises  enough  to 
have  immortalized  a  whole  litter  !  "  Tender!  sweet! 
delicious  !"  Then  there  was  "  no  grossness  about  it." 
«  It  really  induced  appetite."  "  One  couldn't  eat  too 
much  of  it."  It  was  the  very  pig  which  Chawles 
Lamb  had  celebrated,  Mr.  Flush  declared  ;  and,  as 
for  Mrs.  Dust,  she  admiringly  believed  that  it  wasn't  a 
pig  at  all,  at  which  Cynthia  screwed  up  her  mouth  to 
keep  from  grinning,  and  met  a  rebuke  for  whistling 
instead.  Larry,  the  gardener,  was  also  very  attentive, 
now  transferred  to  the  dining-room,  and  the  regular 
force  was  no  less  efficient,  and,  altogether,  such  a  lus 
cious  time,  and  such  a  demand  for  "  more  pig"  had 
never  tried  menial  activity.  Young  Mr.  Bagly  obtained 
a  great  triumph  over  Mr.  Flush  in  the  acknowledgment 
of  the  latter,  that  he  never  had  eaten  such  pig  in  Eng 
land  !  Dr.  Slunk  asked  the  lady  on  his  right  if  she'd 
take  "  some  of  thist"  and  the  one  on  his  left,  if  she'd 
take  "  some  of  that  ?"  And  he  also  kept  the  decanter 
— setting  it  down  harder  and  harder  on  its  bottom  after 
every  punishmint,  and,  for  some  unaccountable  reason, 
growing  in  discontent  each  moment.  But  sweetest 


54  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

pleasures  are  the  shortest,  and  a  roast  pig  is  no  excep 
tion.  The  stew  and  other  fixin's  had  also  "suffered 
some,"  and  a  removal  of  dishes  was  the  signal  for  that 
« flow  of  soul,"  &c.  Mr.  Busby  Case  arose ;  and, 
thereupon,  all  wiped  their  mouths  and  cried  «  Jiem  /" 
The  intensity  of  the  moment  may  be  imagined  from 
the  fact  that  even  young  Mr.  Bagly  stopped  whit'ling  a 
toothpick. 

Mr.  Buzby  Case  first  hesitated,  and  then  remarked 
upon  the  fact  that  he  hesitated,  and  well  he  might,  he 
further  observed ;  Mr.  C.  had  addressed  larger  assem 
blies,  numerically,  but  the  size  of  the  present  com 
pany  was  independent  of  heads  !  (It  would  not  have 
been  so  safe,  perhaps,  for  him  to  have  said  stomachs.) 
"  Mr.  C.  stood  before  the  genius  and  the  wit  of  Poker- 
ville.  More,  there  were  guests  present,  whose  genius 
and  whose  wit  the  genius  and  the  wit  of  Pokerville  had 
met  to  honour!  A  welcome,  but  unexpected,  guest 
would  not  be  offended,  brilliant  as  were  his  literary 
claims,  if  Mr.  C.,  on  this  occasion,  more  particularly 
referred  to  others  than  himself.  (Mr.  Flush  bowed, 
deprecating  further  notice  of  his  own  poor  merits.) 
Mr.  C.  would  even  at  once  name  the  founder  of  the 
drama  in  Pokerville,  and  the  transcendarit  ornament 
of  that  drama,  the  founder's  amiable  and  accomplished 
wife,  as  the  "  bright  particular"  to  whom  homage  was 
paid  on  that  occasion." 

Mr.  C.  was  here  interrupted  by  tumultuous  applause 
— Messrs.  Slunk,  Bagly,  and  White  setting  down  their 
decanters  very  hard  on  the  table.  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust 
wiped  her  nose  till  it  was  very  red,  and  Mr.  C.  re 
sumed. 

« What     had    been   wanting    to    make   Pokerville 


THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  55 

the  heart  of  refinement,  as  it  already  was  the  head 
of  navigation  ?  The  drama.  And  what  had  been 
wanting  to  make  the  drama  the  first  of  arts,  as  it 
always  had  been  the  second  of  civilization  ?  The 
Dust.  The  Dust  in  its  direction  ;  the  Dust  in  its  ex 
hibition  ;  and  Mr.  C.  made  bold  to  affirm  that  it  would 
take  a  bigger  sprinkle  than  Coons-borough  could  get  up 
to  ever  lay  that  dust !" 

This  was  a  perfect  obliterator  of  Coons-borough  pre 
tension,  as  it  was  a  downright  drench  to  Coons-borough 
malice,  and  the  way  it  « took"  was  tremendous ! 

Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  was  sensibly  affected,  and  looked 
towards  Mrs.  Major  Slope  appealingly.  Mr.  C.  had 
reached  his  climax.  To  go  any  further  would  be  to 
get  upon  tip-toe,  and  he  then  might  waggle  ;  besides, 
he  hadn't  any  more  to  say,  and  so  he  « felt  that  he 
must  conclude  ;"  he  would,  therefore,  give  them  the 
founders  of  the  drama  in  Pokerville,  and  for  once  they 
might  rejoice  over  their  Dust  ! 

Amid  a  storm  of  applause  and  a  volley  of,  at  least, 
three  corks — for  the  majority  of  necks  had  to  be 
twisted,  the  champagne  being  of  the  guggle  instead 
of  the  fly  vintage — it  was  conceded  that  this  was  just 
the  neatest  thing  that  ever  had  been  said  in  Pokerville. 
Mrs.  Major  Slope  pronounced  it  « attic,"  and  Mr. 
Flush  said  it  was  worthy  of  the  "  pig,"  or  even  #elia 
himself!  There  was  nothing  but  dust  about  the  table, 
and  in  a  perfect  cloud  of  it,  though  a  radiant  one, 
Mr.  Dust  arose. 

Mr.  Dust  remarked  that  he  was  not  a  facetious  man  } 
he  would  not  attempt  to  throw  dust  in  their  eyes  ;  he 
was  afraid  they  might  be  choked  with  dust ;  yet  dust 
he  was,  and  unto  dust  he  must  return,  and,  therefore, 


56  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

He  would  go  on ;  and  forthwith  Mr.  Dust  stopped 
awhile  to  let  them  get  through  laughing,  for  this  little 
unpremeditated  sally  tickled  everybody  amazingly ; 
and  Mr.  Dust  knew  it  would,  as  he  had  tested  the 
effect  of  it  on  apt  occasions  ever  since  he  had  been  a 
manager.  The  glow  of  hilarity  was  extreme,  except 
in  the  cases  of  Messrs.  Slunk  and  Waters — the  latter 
of  whom  appeared  to  be  abstractedly  writing  some 
treasured  wrong  with  the  point  of  a  fork  upon  the 
table-cloth.  Mr.  Dust  resumed,  with  the  remark  that 
he  would  «  first,  however,  wash  the  dust  out  of  his 
mouth" — a  lavation  that,  with  a  cheer,  was  generally 
imitated. 

Mr.  Dust  would  now  beg  to  be  serious — Mrs.  D. 
and  Mrs.  Major  following,  gave  the  signal  for  a  change 
of  feature  instantly.  Yes,  Mr.  Dust  owed  too  much 
to  Pokerville,  and  too  much  to  his  own  feelings  as  a 
man,  longer  to  indulge  in  the  mere  sparkle  of  wit, 
wrhich,  like  the  champagne  they  were  drinking,  effer 
vesced  but  to  exhale.  Mr.  Dust  had  prepared  his 
figure  under  the  reasonable  expectation  of  a  tolerably 
lively  article  ;  but,  as  it  happened,  the  application  was 
not  so  clear,  seeing  that  young  Mr.  Bagly  had  already 
broken  three  slim  glasses,  driving  them  through  his 
hand  in  the  attempt  to  raise  "  a  bead  ;"  while  more 
cautious  gentlemen  were  actually  stirring  up  theirs  with 
crusts,  and  the  ladies  were  precipitating  into-  theirs 
raisin  after  raisin  without  sending  a  globule  to  the  sur 
face.  Mr.  Dust  went  on  through.  Yes,  Mr.  Dust 
would  look  serious ;  he  would  remember  that,  but  a 
short  time  ago,  he  had  arrived  in  Pokerville  with  no 
invitation  save  his  confidence  in  man — no  introduc 
tion  save  that  of  his  letters  ;  he  would  remember  that 


THE   DRAMA   IN   POKERVILLE.  57 

the  drama,  without  the  promise  of  a  roof,  had  found  a 
dome  possessing  even  peculiar  advantages,  and  th'at, 
with  nothing  but  her  legitimate  resources,  and,  might 
he  add,  some  small  amount  of  talent  and  energy  to  aid 
her,  she  now  sat  "  firm  as  the  marble,  founded  as  the 
rock."  «  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Dust,  pardonably  yielding  to 
a  generous  enthusiasm,  «  destroy  your  present  temple  ; 
let  even  convulsion  level  it  with  the  earth,  (on  a  strict 
estimate,  a  fall  of  ten  feet,)  yet  will  it  rise  again — 
again  will  genius  thrill  the  breast  of  sympathy."  No 
less  generous  as  a  boast  than  delicate  as  a  compliment, 
all  hearts  responded  to  this.  'Mrs.  Major  Slope  met 
the  eyes  of  the  company  with  a  palpitation  evident  to 
all ;  and  Mr.  Kemble  White,  as  the  gaze  was  natu 
rally  also  directed  to  himself,  drew  on  his  White  cot 
tons  and  took  them  off  again,  and  looked  towards  Mr. 
Waters,  who  was  still  solving  something  in  the  table 
cloth,  with  heavy  drinks  between,  and  thought  that 
he  was  right  with  regard  to  «  society,"  after  all.  Mr. 
Dust  had  even  overcome  himself.  He  looked  as  if  he 
should  betray  a  weakness,  were  he  to  proceed.  He 
looked  at  Mrs.  Dust,  and  his  emotion  increased  ;  there 
was  a  spasmodic  action  in  his  throat.  "  Friends," 
said  Mr.  Dust,  «  I  thought  I  had  known  myself  better ; 
but  kindness  like  that  of  Pokerville !  I  would  have 
thanked  you  for  myself — for  one  other — for  the  drama 
— for  her  children — for  your  full  and  fashionable  at 
tendance — for  the  future  promise  of  next  week — for — 
for — pardon  this  weakness  ;"  and  Mr.  Dust's  thanks 
utterly  failed  him,  just  as  he  had  got  to  the  end  of  his 
list.  He  recovered  himself  amidst  the  general  emotion, 
filled  his  glass  with  sudden  resolution,  and,  in  a  firm 
voice,  gave, 
K 


58  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

.«  The  Pokerville  taste — the  Pokerville  temple — the 
drama,  while  it  hails  the  one,  shall  halo  the  other !" 

There  was  a  nerve  and  dignity  in  the  tone  of  this 
which  was  very  fine,  very  ;  in  fact,  there  is  but  one 
term  for  it — it  was  thrilling  ! 

Applause  was  long  and  loud;  and  Mr.  Oscar  Dust 
never  felt  himself  so  completely  head,  front,  and  ex 
tremity  of  the  Great  Small  Affair  Theatres  as  at  that 
moment. 

Mr.  Busby  Case  rose.  He  would  give  one  other 
toast.  ..  .'''' 

"Mrs.  Oscar  Dust. — A  planet  in  her  orbit;  might 
she  become  a  fixed  star  at  Pokerville." 

There  was  something  more  than  natural, — "  if  phi 
losophy  could  find  it  out,"  as  Hamlet  says,  in  the  rapid 
succession  of  clever  things  upon  this  pleasing  occasion. 
And  it  was  evident,  from  the  growing  exhilaration, 
that  people  had  just  "  given  way  to  the  thing." 

The  present  toast  was  a  regular  melter ;  and  enthu 
siasm,  admiration,  and  sentiment  swelled  the  stream,  at 
the  rate  of  a  ten  foot  «  rise"  at  least.  There  was  a 
moment's  embarrassment.  "Mrs.  Dust!"  hurriedly  whis 
pered  Mrs.  Slope.  «  By  all  means,  my  dear,"  ex 
claimed  that  lady.  Mr.  Case  expressed  gratified  sur 
prise.  And  with  a  sweet  diffidence,  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust 
stood  before  the  company.  «  She's  going  to  speak !" 
buzzed  everybody.  "  D — d  if  she  isn't!"  muttered 
the  doctor.  « Never  be  taken  alive!"  sneered  Mr. 
Kemble  White.  "  Something  on  her  stomach,  I  reck 
on,"  leered  Mr.  Bagly. 

"  Friends  /"  began  Mrs.  Oscar,  and  you  might  have 
<  heard  a  pin  drop,"  as  they  say  in  the  papers,  "  'Tis 
woman's  part tojfee/,"  said  Mrs.  Oscar;  «  society  pre- 


THE   DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE.  59 

scribes  forms  even  for  her  affections  ;  and  fain  would  I 
be  mute,  but  that  my  heart  cries  out  <  You  mustn't !' 
As  a  female,  I  feel  your  gallantry ;  as  an  artiste,  your 
approbation,  and  as  a  matron — older  than  some  pre 
sent," — (Mrs.  Dust  made  this  admission  with  a  charm 
ing  ingenuousness,)  "I  may  claim  a  privilege.  A 
matron ;  yes,  a  mother.  And  the  grace  and  beauty 
present  remind  me,  young  ladies,  that  I  have  a  daugh 
ter  like  you — at  an  Eastern  seminary.  Mr.  Waters 
knows" — 

"At  a  farm  in  Kentucky;"  groaned  the  veteran, 
nearly  audibly,  and  pouring  out  an  enormous  horn ; 
"kept  out  of  the  way." 

Mrs.  Dust  went  on : — "  Mr.  Sky,  too,  and  Mr.  Bagly 
will  excuse  me,  especially  the  last,  who  has  received  a 
martial  education,  when  I  say  that  I  have  a  son — now 
serving  his  country — 'tis  now  three  years,  as  Mr.  Wa 
ters  ktfows,  since  his  midshipman's  warrant." — 

"  Runs  to  Texas  ;  mate  on  a  steamboat !"  muttered 
Mr.  W. 

"But  these  are  private  matters,"  said  Mrs.  D., 
changing  her  tone,  now  that  she  had  made  them  pub 
lic  ;  "  let  me  at  once  speak  my  grateful  thanks,  and 
forgive  my  chiming  fancy,  which  suggests  a  metrical 
impromptu" 

"  Your  key-ind  approval  to  uphold  my  cause, 
To  g^le-ard  the  path  you  crown  with  your  applause  : 
Ble-you  are  the  ske-eyes,  an  Eden  promise  still, 
Nor^erpent  wiles  shall  tempt  from  Pokerville." 

It  had  originally  read, 

"  Ble-you  are  the  skies,  an  Eden  shut  from  sorrow; 
Nor  serpent  wiles  shall  lure  from  thee,  Coonsborough." 


60  THE   DRAMA   IN   POKERVILLE. 

But  Mrs.  Dust  excelled,  equally,  in  adapting  herself 
to  every  thing,  and  every  thing  to  herself.  , 

"Oh,  h — 11!"  contemptuously  blurted  out  Mr.  Wal 
ters,  with  his  eyes  "  sot ;"  but,  fortunately,  his  excla 
mation  was  unnoticed  in  the  storm  of  applause  which 
rewarded  the  discovery  that  Mrs.  Dust  was  "  a  poet 
too." 

The  great  guns  had  now  gone  off,  and  the  rattle 
among  the  small  pieces  succeeded ;  something  lofty 
was  demanded  from  Mr.  Sky,  who  replied,  that  the 
expectation  was  unreasonable,  as  he  was  at  theybo^  of 
the  company,  yet  as  it  was  a  Pokerville  game,  he  as 
sured  them  that  they  .needn't  "pass,"  as  they  held  a 
flush  in  their  hands.  A  few-de-joy  of  wit,  which  Mrs. 
Major  Slope  declared,  would  bring  out  a  flush  any 
where  ;  so  that  be-punned  upon  gentleman  arose,  and 
excusing  himself  from  a  speech,  after  the  eloquent  and 
masterly  efforts  which  they  had  listened  to,  offered  to 
sing  a  "  ballad  from  the  German,"  which  he  did, 
"  right  off,"  in  a  very  deep  voice,  and  with  a  protrusion 
of  the  upper  lip  and  a  rolling  of  the  eyes ;  and  which 
ballad  was  all  about  a  little  boy  that  had  been  stolen 
from  behind  his  father,  a  horse-back,  in  the  woods,  by 
a  mysterious  demon,  who  had  all  the  low  notes ;  and, 
altogether  it  was  a  blood-creeping  kind  of  an  effort, 
which  almost  lent  a  mystery  to  the  person  of  Mr.  Flush 
himself.  They  never  had  heard  any  one  «  sing  so 
deep,"  and  as  for  Mr.  Oscar  Dust,  who  had  heard  all 
the  first  singers,  he  pronounced  Mr.  F.'s  tone  to  be  the 
finest  he  had  ever  heard  in  his  life,  combining  with  the 
bass  the  invaluable  qualities  of  the  baratone. 

Mrs.  Major  Slope,  now  remembering,  suddenly,  that 
she  had  not  been  as  attentive  to  her  lesser  order  of  his- 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  61 

tnonic  guests  as  she  might  have  been,  desired  Mr. 
Casp  to  give — «  Mr.  Kemble  White,  and  the  gentlemen 
of  the  Great  Small  Affair  Company."  And  it  was 
given  accordingly,  and  there  was  great  applause,  par 
ticularly  from  young  Mr.  Bagly.  And  then  all  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  «  acknowledged  Rollo,"  who  looked 
at  the  "  classic  veteran,"  who  was  once  more  looking 
at  the  table-cloth ;  and,  anon,  Mr.  Johnson  began 
nudging  Mr.  White,  and  Mr.  White  again,  abstractedly, 
began  drawing  on  his  white  cottons.  He  found  him 
self  up  at  last,  however,  and  he,  in  a  brusque  tone,  com 
menced  : — 

«  Ladies  and  Gentlemen :" — The  familiar  sound  of 
which  at  once  drew  Mr.  Waters's  glassy  gaze  full. upon 
him.  (Mr.  White  stuck !) 

"  A-hem !  Ladies  and  gentlemen ;  in  appearing 
be"— 

Mr.  White  took  up  his  glass,  and  he  put  down  his 
glass;  and  finally,  turning  to  the  Sardonic  veteran, 
«  Bile  !  Waters,"  said  he,  «  Bile  !"  and  down  he  sat  in 
an  evident  gripe;  "society"  having  received  another 
"  lick  back"  in  his  bosom. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !"  roared  Mr.  Waters,  in  a  sort  of 
"  Wolf's  glen"  merriment,  and  looking  as  much  like 
Zamiel  as  if  he  had  "made  up  his  face"  for  it. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  The  acknowledged  Rollo  !"  and  bang£ 
ing  his  decanter  down  on  the  table,  he  spoiled  Mrs. 
Major  Slope's  set,  by  knocking  the  bottom  from  under 
one  of  them. 

The  effect  was  electric  !  There  was  a  general  start, 
a  general  horror !  Mrs.  Major  Slope  was  frightened  ; 
Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  toweringly  indignant ;  Mr,  Dust,  how 
ever,  was  more  anxious  than  any  thing  else,  for  he 


62  THE   DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE. 

knew  Mr.  Waters  of  old,  and  plainly  recognised  the 
symptoms  of  a  downright  phrensy,  which  his  potations 
sometimes  induced.  There  was  no  remedy  but  an  in 
stant  "  turn  him  out,"  and  this  was  attempted  by  the 
manager  and  "  gentlemen  of  the  company ;"  but,  armed 
with  a  broken  decanter,  the  veteran  bade  defiance  to 
them  all  in  the  most  classic  attitudes.  The  attempt, 
too,  produced  an  access  of  rage,  and  he  became  fear 
fully  Miltonic. 

"Gun-shot  wounds,  and  female  fits!  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha! 
'Tis  false  as  hell !  I  say  it ;  I,  who  never — Ha !  a  mid 
shipman — and  the  king  of  the  French — hanging  up  in 
a  bar-room — on  a  Kentucky  farm — ye  gods  !  Back,  on 
your  lives  !"  And  here,  Mr.  White  got  a  kick,  which 
increased  his  bilious  symptoms. 

"What!  am  I  fallen  so  low,  to  sell  my  soul  to  the 
mother  of  lies  ?  I  defy  ye.  Hissed  at  Coons-borough ! 
Your  coronation  robe,  too,  turned  and  dyed !  Ha,  ha, 
na!  humbug,  I — " 

Mr.  Tom  Sky,  who  had  stolen  upon  the  veteran  un 
der  the  table,  now  cut  short  his  incoherent  abuse,  by 
knocking  his  legs  from  under  him ;  when  he  was  in 
stantly  secured,  and  borne  off — a  regular  heavy  villain's 
fifth  act  exit.  And  never  had  Mr.  Waters  made  one 
leaving  such  a  thrilling  sensation  behind  him. 

The  Great  Small  Affair  banquet  was  essentially  knock 
ed  into  a  cocked-hat ;  but  evening  was  approaching,  at 
any  rate,  when  their  duties  to  the  public  must  have  sum 
moned  a  portion  of  the  guests,  and  Mr.  Oscar  Dust,  very 
pale  and  "  flustrated,"  yet  endeavouring  to  look  simply 
wounded,  endeavoured  to  express  his  inexpressible  con 
cern  and  mortification  at  an  incident  so  wild,  so  unpar 
alleled,  entirely  unlike  any  thing  he  had  ever  heard  of — 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  63 

so,  more  than  any  thing  else,  resembling  the  fantasy  of  a 
distempered  dream ;  an  event  which  had  marred  a  re 
union  unequalled  in  taste  and  refinement. 

Mr.  Dust  could  have  gone  on  to  any  amount,  and 
would  have  done  so,  but  for  another  extraordinary  in 
terruption  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Oscar,  who,  turning  deadly 
pale,  and  catching  Mr.  Busby  Case  round  the  neck,  to 
save  herself  from  falling,  staggered  from  the  room, 
followed  by  such  ladies  as  hadn't  disappeared  earlier  ; 
of  course,  Mr.  Dust,  in  no  small  alarm,  made  his  exit, 
also. 

"  Tom  Sky,  did  you  eat  any  of  that  pig,"  inquired 
young  Mr.  Bagly,  in  hurried  accents. 

«  Not  a  bite  ;"  said  Tom  Sky.     «  Did  you,  Bag  ?" 

"Not  the  first  mouthful ;  that^mn  old  bibwn  sow's 
litter  again,  I'll  bet  a  corde." 

«  Gentlemen,  you  alarm  me,"  anxiously  observed 
Mr.  Flush.  «  Pray,  what  was  the  matter  with  the 
pigs?"  Messrs.  Sky  and  Bagly  exchanged  glances 
ruefully,  at  the  same  time  kicking  Dr.  Slunk  under  the 
table  j  but  this  gentleman,  still  in  his  sullen  fit,  declared 
he  must  return  to  town,  at  once,  and  off  he  went. 

«  The  pig  was  wholesome,  gentlemen,  eh !"  urged 
Mr.  Flush.  Messrs.  Sky  and  Bagly  again  exchanged 
glances. 

"  Extremely  sweet,  wasn't  it  ?"  said  the  former 

"  Deliciously  so,"  said  Mr.  Flush. 

"Fatter'n  common?"  said  Bagly. 

"Unusually!" 

"  And  tender?" 

«  Quite !" 

"  Brown  and  crackly^ 

«  Never  saw  such  a  pig !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Flush. 


64  THE    DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE. 

«  The  thing's  out ;  the  pisin  litter !"  cried  Mr.  Bagly. 

"  Good  God,  gentlemen,  what  do  you  mean?"  gasped 
the  agent  of  the  Vinaigrette. 

"  Don't  you  feel  a  qualmishness  at  your  stomach, 
now  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Sky. 

"  I  do,  distinctly  !"  and  Mr.  Flush  grew  pale. 

"  A  sort  of  a  risin'  ?"  said  Mr.  Bagly. 

"Yes,  yes,  sick!" 

"Just  the  way  it  comes  on!"  observed  the  gentle 
man.  « It's  the  fat  that  does  it !" 

"In  the  name  of  honour,  gentlemen,  what  was  the 
matter  with  the  pig?"  demanded  the  now  livid  Mr. 
Flush. 

«  The  old  sow  eat  a  nigger  baby  with  the  small-pox, 
that's  allf* 

The  unhappy  victim  of  a  fatal  admiration  for  JZelia 
and  roast  pig,  plunged  towards  the  door,  but  was 
stopped  in  his  career  by  the  entrance  of  Larry,  who 
bore  a  singular  something,  apparently  the  roasted  head 
of  a  "  varmint,"  on  a  carving  fork. 

"The  devil's  own  kitchen  to  the  cook,  sir!"  cried 
the  gardener- waiter,  "  do  you  know  the  baste  yi'v  been 
ating  ?" 

"  One  of  the  litter !"  screamed  the  sufferer ;  "  poi 
soned!" 

"  Be  dad,  it's  very  likely  ;  for -it's  few  stomachs  can 
stand  them,  enticin'  as  they  are  ;"  said  Larry.  "  Sure, 
I  found  it  out  by  the  head  of  the  crayture,  that  the 
black  divil  had  put  away  for  a  private  snack !"  and 
here  he  held  up  the  fork  to  the  eyes  of  the  dying  one, 
whose  gaze  became  even  more  horrified. 

"My  God,  what  a  country!"  groane'd  he  ;  "Is  that 
the  head  of  a  pig  ?" 


THE    DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE.  65 

« It's  the  head  of  a  mighty  fine  possum,  faith ! 
barrin'  that  it's  bad  to  ate  much  of  it!"  said  Larry. 

«  A  possum  !  an  o-possum  !" 

«  Yis,  an  o-possum,  exceptin'  that  they  think  the  o  is 
too  Irish !  Sure,  their  pride  is  enough  to  turn  any  one's 
stomach,  sur !" 

The  conspirators  now  hastened  to  relieve  Mr.  Flush 
from  his  apprehensions  of  poison,  assuring  him  that 
thirty  grains  of  calomel  and  a  little  oil  would  be  all  he 
need  to  resort  to,  but  his  symptoms  became  more  de 
cided  notwithstanding,  and  he  took  Mr.  Larry's  arm  to 
seek  retirement  for  a  short  time. 

Evening  was  at  hand ;  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust,  though  re 
lieved  from  her  first  strange  attack,  was  still  dreadfully 
"  shaken,"  as  Mr.  Dust  said;  and,  with  deep  distress, 
that  gentleman  found  himself  compelled  to  hurry  up  to 
town  to  change  the  performance.  Mrs.  Dust  was  to 
remain  with  Mrs.  Slope  till  the  morning,  and  thus  the 
Great  Small  Affair  festival,  that  promised  so  much  for 
the  renown  of  Pokerville,  and  the  eclat  of  its  visitors, 
was  "  crucified,  dead,  and  buried,  through  a  pig  and  a 
very  heavy  man !"  as  Mr.  Dust  exclaimed  in  his  vex 
ation. 


THE  GREAT  POKER.VILLE  "SAW." 

MANAGER  DUST  was  a  famous  general ;  his  resources 
were  inexhaustible,  and  his  genius  adapted  them  to  the 
occasion  with  wonderful  promptitude.  The  perform 
ance  must  be  changed  ;  for  a  dismiss  of  such  a  house 
as  there  would  be  on  that  evening,  attracted  by  the 
odours  of  the  banquet,  was  out  of  the  question. 

5 


66  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

Manager  Dust  arranged  it  all  as  he  drove  into  town. 
There  was  a  favourite  one-act  farce  «  up"  in  the  com 
pany,  which  had  not  yet  been  «  done ;"  and  this,  by 
cutting  out  one  of  the  female  parts,  and  letting  down 
the  curtain  twice  extra,  would  do  for  a  «  full  comedy," 
under  the  circumstances.  Then  there  was  a  shorter 
farce,  which  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  playing  alone  in,  and  the  change,  backed 
by  a  touching  speech,  in  which  the  manager  should 
struggle  with  the  husband,  would  make  all  right, 
doubtless.  Manager  Dust  called  to  prepare  Miss 
Wilkins,  but  his  masterly  arrangement  changed  its  as 
pect  fearfully  when  he  found  that  the  young  lady  was 
not  only  locked  in  her  room,  as  usual,  but  in  a  high 
fever  and  utterly  unable  to  perform  herself!  Dismiss! 
such  a  thing,  with  the  prospect  of  a  house,  was  un 
known  in  Small  Affair  history !  Manager  Dust  once 
more  changed  his  programme.  A  doubly  touching 
speech ;  scenes  from  six  tragedies,  in  which  he  himself 
should  shoulder  the  classic  veteran's  labours  in  addi 
tion  to  his  own,  (Manager  Dust's  facility  in  "  doubling" 
was  extraordinary,)  three  grand  overtures  by  Mr.  Henry 
Charles  Johnson,  extra  songs  by  Mr.  Fitzcarol,  and 
comic  songs,  concluding  with  the  «  revolving  statues," 
by  Mr.  Dust !  There  was  a  bill  to  gratify  the  most  in 
satiable,  and,  it  being  already  past  dark,  the  Napoleon 
of  Small  Affairs  proceeded  at  once  to  the  theatre  to 
notify  "the  people."  Mr.  Fitzcarol  was  punctual,  as 
usual ;  and  before  the  lights  were  all  ready,  Messrs. 
White  and  Johnson  arrived,  to  know  what  was  to  be 
done.  They  were  at  once  directed  by  the  «  change 
of  performance,"  which  was  formally  displayed  upon 
the  "  caste-board,"  and,  now,  with  a  mind  more  at 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  67 

ease,  the  Small  Affair  manager  went  into  his  box-office 
with  a  formidable  supply  of  tickets. 

«  'Tis  not  in  mortals  to  command  success,"  as  is 
said  somewhere — in  a  book,  and  no  one  could  find 
fault  with  Mr.  Dust's  arrangements  upon  the  present 
occasion,  but,  unfortunately,  the  Great  Small  Affair 
dinner  had  attracted  too  much  attention,  for  all  Poker- 
ville  not  to  be  already  aware  of  "  how  it  came  off;" 
and  the  'possum  disaster,  with  young  Mr.  Bagly  to 
make  the  most  of  it,  was  already  affording  the  town 
play  enough  for  that  night.  The  curtain  rose  to  a  slim 
house,  and  even  these  were  not  as  much  carried  away 
by  Manager  Dust's  eloquence  as  he  flattered  himself 
would  be  the  case.  However,  they  applauded,  and 
the  offer,  distantly  glanced  at,  of  money  being  «  re 
turned"  was  not  likely  to  be  taken  advantage  of,  when 
there  was  a  «  rush  of  six" — without  tickets — in  front, 
and  every  tongue  of  them  informed  the  speaker  before 
the  curtain,  that  Mr.  Waters  had  just  been  shot ! 
"Dead  as  a  nit?" 
«  Right  through  the  head !" 
«Up  to  the  hotel!" 
« By  Dave  Bagly!" 

The  theatre  was  cleared  in  an  instant,  as  was  the 
box-office  of  its  receipts,  all  running  to  « get  the 
hang"  of  the  scrape,  and  the  Founder  of  the  Drama  in 
Pokerville,  like  other  great  m£n  who  had  gone  before 
him,  was  left  to  his  own  lights,  alas  ! 

There  lay  the  veteran,  sure  enough,  on  the  bar-room 
floor,  his  hair  matted  with  blood,  and  Bagly,  with  a 
revolver  in  his  hand,  and  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  pacing 
up  and  down  beside  his  expiring  victim.  There  was 


68  THE   DRAMA   IN   POKERVILLE. 

a  great  crowd  about,  and  the  chafed  and  excited  man 
ager  soon  mingled  in  it.  The  story  was  a  very  short 
and  very  plain  one,  as  usual ;  Mr.  Waters  had  come 
into  town,  alone,  «  rearin'  up  and  playin'  h — 11 ;"  had 
'run  foul  of  the  wrong  one,  Mr.  Bagly,  and  had  got 
his  brains  blown  out,  "like  a  dog!"  And  Mr.  Bagly 
was  there,  with  five  more  barrels,  to  do  the  same  for 
any  gentleman  who  might  say  «  shucks !"  Mr.  Dust 
was  not  the  man  to  use  any  offensive  monosyllable  of 
the  kind ;  but  he  did  say  that  it  was  "  really  unfortu 
nate  !"  and  he  requested  Dr.  Slunk  to  do  all  in  his 
power,  and,  moreover,  hearing  his  name  muttered  by 
the  dying  man,  he  took  his  hand  kindly,  and  asked 
what  he  could  do  for  him  ? 

Dr.  Slunk  now  ordered  in  a  pail  of  water,  and  while 
manager  and  heavy  man  were  thus  tenderly  connected, 
he  unceremoniously  dashed  it  in  the  face  of  the  latter, 
who  rose  suddenly  at  the  shock,  looked  around  wildly, 
and  asked  if  the  curtain  was  up  ?  Mr.  Dust  started  in 
no  less  surprise,  when  a  scream  of  laughter  burst  from 
all  quarters. 

"Sawed,  by  thunder!"  "Small-affair  sold!"  "Good 
lick !"  «  Send  for  the  coroner !"  and  a  thousand  other 
triumphant  jests  at  his  expense. 

The  manager  was  "  sawed,"  as  certainly  as  that  Mr. 
Waters  was  not  slain ;  for,  following  up  the  possum 
suc(  ess,  Mr.  Bagly  had  simply  clotted  the  veteran's 
hair  with  a  charge  of  red  paint  instead  of  his  own 
brains,  and  the  drench  of  cold  water  had  restored  these 
latter  to  consciousness,  if  not  to  sobriety. 

Mr.  Dust's  outward  enjoyment  of  the  joke  was  amaz 
ing  !  He  laughed  at  himself  twice  as  much  as  any  01^ 
else  did ;  declared  his  night's  holiday  to  be  worth  more 


THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  69 

• 

than  the  most  profitable  night  of  the  season ;  and  as  he 
had  of  course  to  "  stand  the  liquors,"  the  way  he  in 
vited  all  to  "  come  up,"  was  as  off-hand  as  popular! 
He  drank,  himself,  too,  and  then  he' took  «  another" 
with  Dave  Bagly,  and  "another"  with  Dr.  Slunk;  and 
then,  what  with  his  disappointments,  and  his  fatigue, 
and  his  "keeping  the  thing  up,"  he  became  extrava 
gant,  and  took  two  or  three  others  ;  and,  finally,  when 
young  Bagly  suggested  that  the  Dr.,  Mr.  Dust,  and 
himself  should  take  a  friendly  game  of  poker  in  Mr. 
Dust's  own  room — as  he  was  to  be  a  single  man  for 
the  night — the  manager  said,  "  go  it,"  and  led  the  way 
up  stairs  in  the  highest  possible  spirits,  and  was  soon 
making  the  highest  possible  bets,  and  never  stopped 
getting  wilder,  and  "going"  more  and  more  on  his 
cards,  till  his  last  draught  on  his  funds  was  unhonoured, 
and,  in  a  perfect  whirl,  calling  for  more  "  peach,"  and 
lamenting  Mrs.  Oscar,  and  making  arrangements  to 
bury  « the  veteran,"  and  changing  the  pieces,  and 
d — m — g  Coons-borough,  he  found  himself  on  the  bed, 
where,  albeit,  he  was  wrong  end  in ;  he  was  right  side 
up  for  all  sleeping  purposes,  and  so  exeunt  Messrs. 
Slunk  and  Bagly. 

"And  you  mean  to  fix  the  thing,  sure,  to-night?" 
inquired  the  latter,  of  his  companion,  as  they  stood  on 
the  steps  of  the  hotel. 

"  Or  shoot  some  one,  by  G — d !"  replied  the  M.  D., 
savagely.  "  Put  it  through  before  daylight,  or  die ! 
Give  us  light.  My  name's  Captain  Scott,  I  reckon !" 

The  Captain  Scott  in  question  must  have  been  a  man 
of  some  invincible  quality  or  other,  if,  with  his  name, 
the  doctor  assumed  his  manner  on  this  occasion! 

Some   two   hours  after  this,   Mr.  Dave  Bagly  was 


70  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

shaken  out  of  a  favourite  dream  of  his — the  exercise  of 
a  small  sleight  of  hand  in  the  case  of  certain  cards — by 
Cynthy,  who  had  returned  to  town,  it  seemed,  and  who 
told  him,  "  Dat  Massa  Doc  Slunk  was  lyin'  dead,  for 
sure,  under  Miss  Fanny's  winder !" 


THE  GREAT  SMALL  AFFAIR  SCANDAL. 

FOR  the  first  time  within  the  circle  of  Pokerville 
"  society" — that  is,  the  inner  circle, — on  a  fine  Sab 
bath  morning,  too,  there  existed  the  flutter  and  fluster 
of  a  loud  and  lively  scandal — more,  a  theatrical  scan 
dal  !  From  Parson  Hyme,  through  every  ramification 
of  church  connection,  before  nine  o'clock,  there  was  a 
foul  mystery, — an  eager  horror, — a  general  "I  said 
so!" — stirring  and  thrilling,  and  goading  every  sense 
of  decency  and  propriety  into  every  utterance  of  pious 
regret  and  holy  denunciation !  The  « fashionable 
leader,"  somehow,  had  more  to  do  with  it  than  any 
body  else,  for  what  could  be  expected  of  levelling  her 
self  with  "  such  people ;"  and  Mrs.  Wilson  of  the  store- 
shed  was  particeps  criminis,  also,  and  even  the  store- 
shed  itself  was  tried,  condemned,  and  only  waiting 
execution !  So  much  for  introducing  a  theatre  ! — and 
so  much  for  admitting  actors  into  society! — and  so 
much  for  complimentary  dinners ! — and  so  much  for 
newspaper  puffery ! — and  so  much  for  fat  leading  la 
dies  ! — and  so  much  for  light  loose  ones !  Everybody 
knew  it ! — everybody  said  it ! — everybody  saw  it.  And 
now,  pray,  what  was  it  all  about  ? 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  71 

What!  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  brutal  and 
bloody  fight,  at  midnight,  in  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins's 
chamber,  between  two  of  her  gallants,  one  of  whom 
succeeded  in  throwing  the  other  out  of  the  window! 
That  was  the  simple  subject  which  was  to  feed  Parson 
Hyme's  morning  discourse,  and  supply  his  whole  con 
gregation  for  the  remainder  of  the  day  ;  with  Mrs.  Ma 
jor  Slope  and  her  entire  literary  and  fashionable  clique 
dashed  over  it  as  a  seasoning. 

About  the  bar-rooms  the  excitement  was  equally 
great.  Slunk  was  next  to  dead,  that  was  certain;  con 
tusions  all  over  his  body,  and  talking  as  if  out  of  his 
senses.  He  had  evidently  been  thrown  out  of  the  win 
dow,  and  the  only  question  was,  who  had  done  it  ? 
Some  hinted  at  Dave  Bagly,  and  others  at  Tom  Sky, 
and  others  that  old  "Figurehead"  Fitzcarol  might  be 
the  man,  in  support  of  which  idea,  it  was  remembered 
that  he  had  left  the  hotel  at  sunrise  ; — his  constant  cus 
tom  every  Sunday,  poor  fellow ; — to  wander  in  the 
country  all  day  long.  As  for  the  negroes,  they  had 
their  stories,  too,  built  upon  the  positive  averment  of 
Cynthy,  who  happened  to  have  been  up,  and  who  saw, 
with  her  own  eyes,  the  "  debbel"  himself  appear  with 
Massa  Slunk,  not  at  Miss  Fanny's  window,  but  on  the 
roof  just  above  it,  and  after  wringing  his  neck,  chicken 
fashion,  "drap"  him  right  down,  and  then  fly  off  in 
the  shape  of  a  big  buzzard !  In  the  mean  time,  Fanny 
was  struggling  under  an  access  of  fever,  but  steadily 
refusing  all  attendance  save  that  of  Cynthy ;  the  doctor 
was  undergoing  a  series  of  fomentations  at  the  hand  of 
Bagly ;  and  Manager  Dust  was  endeavouring  to  recall 
his  recollection  under  the  interrogatories  of  Mrs.  D.. 
who,  having  recovered  her  stomach,  and  growing  im- 


72  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

patient  at  Mr.  D.'s  delay  in  coming  out  for  her,  had 
caused  herself  to  be  driven  in  at  once. 

11  Yes,  my  dear,"  said  the  manager,  with  a  suppressed 
hiccough  which  he  dexterously  turned  into  an  abrupt 
ah  !  «  An  attack  similar  to  your  own.  It  didn't  come 
on  until — ah! — late,  though, — after  the  dismiss  !" 

"You  dismissed,  Mr.  Dust!" 

"  Had  to  do  it ;  it  was  you  or  nothing,  my  dear. 
They  demanded — ah! — their  money" — 

"But  in  bed  with  your  boots  and  clothes  on! 
Why"— 

"Just  as  I  was  attacked,  my  dear!  Hadn't  power 
to  help  myself!  I  thought  of  you  though,  my  love — 
ah!"  Here  the  Napoleon  of  Small  Affairs  attempted 
to  reach  the  pitcher,  but  brought  himself  up  in  exactly 
the  opposite  corner ;  and  then  he  brought  himself  down 
on  a  band-box,  containing  a  choice  couple  of  Mrs.  D.'s 
stage-hats. 

«  Dust !"  cried  the  amazed  lady,  "  are  you  drunk?" 

"No,  my  dear,  that  d — d  'possum,  that's  all!" 

"  *  Possum,  sir!  You  have  availed  yourself  of  my 
absence — suffering  though  I  was — to  indulge  in  a  de 
bauch  !"  And  here,  as  if  thrilled  with  a  sudden  pre 
sentiment,  the  indignant  manageress  rushed  at  him, 
thrust  her  hand  into  one  of  his  side  pockets,  drew  from 
it  a  bunch  of  keys,  and  opening  a  private  drawer  in 
their  strong  box,  found  it  empty ! 

"Dust!"  screamed  the  lady;  but  with  a  surer  aim 
than  he  had  made  at  the  pitcher,  Dust  hit  the  door 
handle  and  vanished,  retreating,  without  a  hope,  the 
full  length  of  the  passage,  and,  finally,  as  the  result  of 
his  Waterloo,  exiling  himself  to  Jiis  Helena — Cynthy's 
mattress  in  the  garret — for  the  remainder  of  the  day. 


THE    DRAMA    IN    POKER VILLE.  73 

"  Prehaps,"  Parson  Hyme  didn't  put  it  in  to  Poker- 
ville  for  two  mortal  hours ;  and  prehaps  Pokerville 
didn't  wiggle,  wince,  and  finally  "flummix"  right  be 
neath  him !  Mrs.  Major  Slope  wasn't  there,  and  pre- 
haps  Parson  Hyme  didn't  take  advantage  of  it  to  talk 
about  the  desertion  of  one  altar  for  that  of  another — 
fashion!  Mrs.  Major  Slope  wasn't  there,  but  Mrs. 
Wilson  was,  and  jorehaps  her  round  little  husband  didn't 
feel  himself  flattened  right  out,  only  wishing  that  he 
might  also  be  rolled  up  and  put  away  for  ever  more, 
out  of  all  possible  reach ;  and  jorehaps  he  didn't  curse 
the  day  when  he  had  consented  that  his  store-shed 
should  be  condemned  to  fame  and  made  a  "temple" 
of!  Mr.  Flush  was  there  too,  with  Miss  Mirny  Hunter, 
and  other  ladies,  and  ha  really,  at  first  sight,  looked  as 
if  he  was  very  much  overcome  by  his  self-reproaches, 
but  it  was  recollected  that  he  had  had  a  dreadful  time 
with  his  stomach  the  night  before,  so  after  all  it  might 
have  been  that.  And  Mr.  Tom  Sky  was  there,  m  his 
yellow  kids,  with  another  pew  full  of  ladies ;  but  he, 
on  the  contrary,  kept  looking  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hyme  right 
in  the  face  all  the  time,  except  when  he  bent  to  void 
his  tobacco  juice,  and,  altogether,  he  carried  it  off  as 
none  but  a  man  who  was  used  to  steamboat  explosions 
possibly  could  have  done. 

Everybody  went  home  piously  sharpened  up  for 
their  dinner,  over  which,  conjecture,  comment  and  sur 
prise  were  as  rife  as  ever.  And  now,  by  way  of  keep 
ing  up  the  excitement,  every  horse  and  every  vehicle 
was  chartered  for  the  afternoon,  and  juleps,  milk  punches, 
and  ten-pins,  out  of  town,  brought  round  the  evening. 
Manager  Dust  was  sought  for  in  vain,  while  the  editor 
of  the  Palladium  puffed  his  cigar,  and  affected  a  close 
s 


74  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

knowledge  of  the  whole  affair,  his  conduct  being  an 
acted  illustration  of  his  article  for  the  next  morning,  in 
which  he  stated  that  "  motives  of  delicacy  dictated  a 
suppression  of  particulars,  for  the  present."  The 
theatrical  world  was  big  with  further  events,  which 
cast  their  shadows  before,  too,  not  the  least  ghastly  of 
which  was  the  classic  veteran,  Mr.  Waters,  who,  still 
muddled,  mysterious,  and  full  of  ill-defined,  but  indig 
nant  grandeur,  paced  the  bar-room  of  the  hotel  ejacu 
lating  "pickle*!"  and  screwing  his  face  about  as  if  in 
the  act  of  swallowing,  compulsorily,  a  very  sour  one. 


THE  GREAT  SMALL  AFFAIR  CHASTISEMENT. 

MONDAY  Morning!  The  Palladium  faithfully  appeared, 
giving  a  full  report  of  the  Great  Small  Affair  dinner — 
all  bfit  the  'possum,  that  dish  not  being  inserted  in  the 
carte  at  all.  A  brief  editorial  alluded  to  a  certain  " un 
pleasant"  affair,  as  has  been  mentioned,  and  a  very 
long  and  enthusiastic  editorial  reminded  the  taste  and 
beauty  of  Pokerville,  that  the  amiable  and  «  genius- 
gifted"  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  took  her  benefit  on  that  even 
ing. 

A  new  piece  was  to  be  performed,  and,  there  being 
a  positive  necessity  for  her  presence,  Miss  Fanny  Wil- 
kins,  though  seemingly  more  dead  than  alive,  made  her 
appearance  at  rehearsal  ;  she  was  evidently  suffering, 
mentally,  from  some  cause  or  other,  though  what  it  was 
she  kept  to  herself;  and,  in  fact,  there  was  little  show 
of  sympathy  to  induce  confidence.  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust 
was  wrapt  in  gloom  and  distance,  at  the  prompt  tn1  T 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  75 

waiting  for  Mr.  Dust,  who  had  run  down  to  the  print 
ing  office ;  Mr,  Kemble  White,  striding  up  and  down 
over  a  new  part,  was  wrapt  up  in  future  greatness,  Mr. 
Waters  was  wrapt  up  in  a  misty  recollection  of  some 
extraordinary  circumstance  or  other  for  which  he  had  to 
apologize  ;  and  Mr.  Johnson  was  about  town,  borrow 
ing  properties.  Mr.  Fitzcarol  was  naturally  the  last 
person  who  would  hear  any  thing  in  the  way  of  scandal, 
never  dealing  in  the  article,  and,  besides,  he  had  spent 
the  day  before  in  exploring  the  hills  and  hollows,  not 
that  he  was  entirely  ignorant  that  Fanny  was  spoken 
against,  but  then  he  knew  that  Mrs.  Dust  couldn't  en 
dure  her,  and  the  other  followed,  as  a  matter  of  course. 
Besides,  Fanny  had  never  invited  his  interference  in 
any  way,  and  he  had  too  much  delicacy  by  broaching 
the  subject,  to  make  her  think,  perhaps,  that  it  was 
necessary.  He  was  now  describing  to  her  the  incidents 
of  his  ramble,  and  suggesting  to  her  a  ride  over  the 
same  track  as  likely  to  do  her  good,  when  Mr.  John 
son  rushed  in  with  the  information  that  Dr.  Slunk,  pistol 
in  hand,  was  parading  before  the  door  of  the  theatre  ! 
Fanny  Wilkins  turned  pallid  and  nearly  fainted  at  the 
news.  There  was  a  general  thrill !  Something  desperate 
was  impending,  and  who  knew  who  might  not  come  in 
for  a  share  of  it !  Mrs.  Oscar  Dust  started  up,  her  face 
glowing  with  a  pent-up  rage. 

«  So,  Miss  Wilkins,  public  exposure  at  last !  shame 
ful  and  abandoned  ;  regardless  of  propriety  as  destruc 
tive  of  the  best  interests  of  the  establishment !  Dis 
appointment,  dismissal,  and  disgrace,  Miss ;  tLtiae  are 
your  appeals  to  public  notice  !  closed  on  Sa.urda)  ; 
ruined  again  to  night;  disgraceful!" 

The  indignant  manageress  took  several  shoi  t  turns 


76  THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVTLLE. 

of  the  entire  breadth  of  the  proscenium,  whilst  Fanny, 
first  flushing  up  to  her  temples,  assayed,  to  speak,  but, 
choking  with  emotion,  changed  to  a  burst  of  passionate 
sobs  and  tears.  Mr.  Fitzcarol  was  all  amazement .' 
«*  Gracious  me  !"  said  he,  «  this  is  very  strange — very! 
It  is  cruel — distinctly  it  is  !  You  charge  Miss  Wilkins, 
madam,  with  misconduct !  I'll  see  what  this  gentleman 
means  myself!"  He  turned  to  go,  but  ere  making  a 
step  Fanny  stopped  him  with  almost  a.wild  earnest 
ness. 

"  No  ! — no  ! — not  for  the  world,  Mr.  Fitzcarol !  It 
is  me  he  wishes  to  see,— for  Heavens  sake  not  you ! 
I'll  go  to  him  !"  and  while  all  stood  motionless  in  sur 
prise,  she  dropped  her  veil  and  walked  rapidly  without. 

Mr.  Dust  was  coming  as  rapidly  down  the  street  as 
his  yet  unsteady  legs  would  permit,  when  what  was  his 
surprise  to  see  Dr.  Slunk — a  patch  on  one  side  of  his 
face,  and  a  terrible  swelling  on  the  other — his  eyes,  too, 
inflamed  as  if  with  other  stimulant  than  passion — ad 
vancing  in  swaggering  triumph  \tith  Miss  Fanny 
Wilkins  on  his  arm,  and  followed  at  a  short  distance 
by  Mr.  Jake  Bagly  and  a  crowd  as  leering  and  chuck 
ling  as  himself. 

«  Why,  doctor — ah " 

"  How  are  you,  Dust,"  said  the  doctor,  patronizingly, 
assuming  a  familiar  air  with  Fanny,  at  the  same  time. 

« Ah-a,  Miss  Wilkins,"  continued  the  manager, 
"the  rehearsal  is  surely  not  over!" 

"  The  fact  is,  Dust,"  said  the  doctor,  "you  must 
spare  Miss  Fanny  this  morning,  for  I  can't  /  she  has 
an  engagement  with  me,  now  !" 

A  laugh  from  the  crowd  behind  was  heard,  and  witk 
a  shudder  Fanny  pressed  forward. 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.     '  77 

"She'll  be  all  right  at  night,  Dust!"  cried  Slunk, 
using  a  theatrical  phrase,  jeeringly,  and  in  another  mo 
ment  the  manager  was  surrounded  by  Bagly  and  his 
"  crowd."  He  was  quizzed  and  slapped  on  the  back, 
and  « old  hoss'd,"  when,  suddenly,  he  felt  himself, 
also,  grasped  by  the  collar,  and  the  next,  a  stinging, 
whizzing,  cutting,  maddening  shower  of  lashes,  from 
a  cowskin,  saluted  his  back  and  shoulders  !  Now  rose 
such  a  mingled  yelling-shout,  scream  and  laughter — as 
never  had  been  heard  in  Pokerville. 

"  Hats  off" — "  Encore" — "Music" — «  Go  it,  major" 
— Keep  up  the  Dust" — "A  little  more  'possum" — 
« First  time  this  season" — "Particular  request,"  &c. 
In  the  mean  time,  exercising  unusual  activity,  and  with 
the  most  eager  desire  in  the  world  to  "  explain,"  if  he 
might  only  be  permitted,  Manager  Dust  tnrew  himself 
into  more  positions  than  ever  he  had  studied  for  the 
revolving  statues !  Whack — thwack,  came  the  blows  : 
skip — slip — trip  went  the  manager;  Hurraw  !  went  the 
crowd,  till,  finally,  as  coolly  as  could  be,  Major  Slope 
emptied  his  mouth  of  an  accumulation  of  tobacco 
juice,  let  go  of  Mr.  Dust's  collar,  and  then,  merely  re 
marking  that  the  next  time  that  gentleman  wished  to 
correspond  with  him  (the  major)  he  hoped  that  he  (the 
major)  might  be  permitted  to  write  his  own  replies,  he 
(the  major)  took  a  fresh  chew  and  walked  off. 

This  was  an  unparalleled  proceeding.  The  aston 
ished  Small  Affair  Manager  appealed  to  the  crowd  if  it 
wasn't ;  A  man  who  had  forced  attentions  upon  him ! 
one  whose  house  and  household  had  been  placed  at  his 
disposal !  Their  wives  bosom  friends !  In  his  whole 
career  he  had  never  felt  so  amazed !  He  could  not  be 
lieve  it  even  then !  It  wasn't  real !  In  fact,  it  hi  dn't 


1 8  "     THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

taken  place !  Manager  Dust,  however,  rubbed  his  shoul 
ders,  and  evinced  an  uneasiness  under  his  broadcloth, 
rather  indicative  of  the  painful  truth  of  the  matter ;  but 
the  <c  gentlemen  of  the  company"  now  appearing,  he 
was  again  seized  with  an  anxiety  regarding  the  rehear 
sal  ;  he  hoped  that  Mr.  Fitzcarol  would  ascertain  when 
Miss  Wilkins  would  probably  be  down  ;  and  he  begged 
that  Mr.  White  would  at  once  return  with  him,  and 
what  with  his  wriggling  his  shoulders,  and  his  business 
airs  with  « the  company,"  and  his  keeping  it  up  with 
the  crowd,  he  had  more  on  his  hands  than  even  the 
Napoleon  of  Small  Affairs  could  get  along  with !  He 
finally  sloped  with  a  lively  step  for  the  theatre,  and  the 
screaming  crowd  took  their  way  to  the  hotel. 

Miss  Fanny  Wilkins  sat  in  her  room,  apparently  ren 
dered  speechless  by  the  tumult  of  her  emotions ;  Doc 
tor  Slunk,-  with  a  malignant  enjoyment,  sat  familiarly 
near  her,  and  Cynthy,  with  one  hand  on  the  door,  as  if 
to  keep  it  open,  stood  glow'ring  and  puckering  out  her 
huge  lips,  when  a  tap  was  heard,  and  Mr.  Fitzcarol 
respectfullv  made  his  obeisance.  Doctor  Slunk's  brows 
co/icracted,  and  he  started  up. 

"  Well,  sir,"  he  cried,  "what  do  you  want?" 

Fanny  Wilkins's  simple,  pretty,  round  little  face,  pre 
sented  every  hollow,  line,  and  angle,  of  affright  and 
desolation. 

;  " Miss  Wilkins,"  said  Fitzcarol,  "in  spite  of  your 
prohibition,  I  have  called  to  interpose  between  you 
and  a  gentleman  whose  strange  conduct,  it  really  ap 
pears  to  me,  you  seem  to  compel  yourself  to  submit 
to.  You  know  I  would  not  take  a  liberty " 

"/know  you  lie,  sir  !"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  swell- 


But  while  iu  the  act  of  aiming  it,  Cynthy  threw  a  pillow  in  his  face."— Page  79. 


THE   DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE.  79 

ing  with  passion,  «  but  by  G-d,  you  will  no  longer  take 
them  here  !  Tell  him  so,  Miss  !" 

"Tell  me  rather,  Miss  Fanny,"  said  the  vocalist, 
with  quite  a  tinge  of  colour  on  his  cheek,  « that  I  may 
take  a  liberty — that  of  throwing  this  insulting  fellow 
out  of  the  window  !" 

This  was  said  in  a  calm,  I-mean-what-I-say  sort  of 
tone,  and  Slunk's  face  changed  from  purple  to  blue, 
and  from  blue  to  green,  and  his  glance  became  unset 
tled  for  an  instant. 

"Oh,  go  ! — go  ! — he  will  kill  you!"  shrieked  Fan 
ny  ;  and,  as  if  challenged  to  maintain  his  character  by 
the  cry,  the  chamelion-complexioned  hero  drew  a  pis 
tol  ;  but  while  in  the  act  of  aiming  it,  Cynthy  threw  a 
pillow  in  his  face,  and  under  that  cover  rushed  forward 
and  pinioned  his  arms  in  her  embrace. 

«  You  aint  a  gwine  to  do  no  shootin'  here,  massa 
doc  !"  cried  Cynthy ;  «  I  carry  you  down  stairs,  and 
drap  you  for  sure  !" 

The  doctor  cursed  and  struggled,  but  he  was  no 
thing  in  the  hands  of  the  huge  wench,  big  as  he  was. 
On  his  finally  abandoning  his  attempts,  she  snatched 
the  weapon  from  his  hand,  and  released  him. 

"  You  black  devil !"  roared  the  doctor. 

«  Wai,  I  is  some,  for  sure,  Massa  Slunk !"  chuckled 
Cynthy,  and  then  she  whistled  carelessly,  by  way  of  a 
crow  over  her  triumph. 

"  As  for  you,  you  d — d  strolling  death's-head,"  said 
the  doctor,  complimenting  the  singer,  at  the  same  time 
going  towards  the  door,  "  if  you  think  your  ears  essen 
tial  to  your  beauty,  you'll  have  to  fight  for  them!" 
With  a  fierce  look,  and  a  fiercer  slam  of  the  door,  he 
disappeared. 


80  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

«  He'll  kill  you  !  He'll  kill  you  !"  cried  poor  Fan 
ny,  wringing  her  hands  ;  "  He  sent  me  a  message,  this 
morning,  that  he  would  d^so,  the  next  time  he  found 
you  in  my  company !  I  left  the  theatre  with  him  to 
prevent  him  shooting  you  !" 

And  now  that  Fanny  had  commenced  her  story,  she 
soon  relieved  her  heart  by  detailing  a  series  of  insults 
and  persecutions,  to  make  the  coolest  blood  boil  again. 
Immediately  on  her  arrival  in  town,  Slunk  had  thrown 
himself  in  her  way ;  when  disappointed  in  his  expecta 
tions  of  a  reception,  he  had  addressed  notes  to  her, 
the  first  of  which  Cynthy  had  been  the  bearer  of,  but 
soon  learning  to  sympathize  with  the  friendless  girl,  the 
kindly  wench  had  turned  round  and  became  her  bodj 
guard  in  the  house,  as  Fitzcarol  had  been  her  pro 
tection,  unknowingly,  out  of  it.  Even  locked  within 
her  chamber,  she  had  not  been  free  from  alarm ;  a  thou 
sand  ingenious  cruelties  had  been  resorted  to,  while, 
abroad,  the  words  and  manner  of  her  persecutor  com 
promised  her  as  effectually  as  if  she  had  been  guilty, 
as  has  been  seen.  Without  a  soul  to  look  to  for  de 
fence — isolated  from  the  company,  save  in  the  case  of 
the  good-natured  vocalist,  whose  personal  safety,  she 
shudjdered  as  she  thought,  she  was  endangering — the 
poor  girl  had  given  herself  up  to  a  despair,  wlrich  had 
finally  laid  her  on  a  bed  of  sickness. 

"  Yes,  an'  dat's  all  you  knows,  Miss  Fanny,"  said 
Cynthy,  with  a  strange  twinkling  of  her  eyes,  "  but  de 
debbil  gin  Massa  Slunk  goss,  night  'fore  las',  I  reck 
on!"  and  here  she  laughed  with  a  mirth  that  was  un 
accountable. 

"  You  doesn't  know  nuffm,  Miss  Fanny,  kase  you 
was  fas'  asleep,  an'  sick  an'  moanin',  and  I  jes'  kept 


THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE.  81 

shady  ever  since.  Well,  night  'fore  las',  I  know'd 
you'd  want  me,  kase  I  guessed  *wot  Massa  Doc  was 
arter,  wen  I  see  him  look  so  brae  at  him  wittles,  an' 
so  you  know  I  cum  in  to  sleep  in  your  room,  Miss 
Fanny,  same  as  ebery  other  night,  kase  you  'fraid  to 
sleep  alone,  an'  'way  long  in  de  night,  I  hears  a  sorter 
pushin'  at  de  winder.  I  kep'  shady,  Miss  Fanny, 
bress  de  Lord,  I  did — no  light  dar — an'bime-bya  man 
pushes  de  winder  clar  up,  an'  I  sees  it  was  de  doctor, 
on  a  ladder.  You  needn't  feel  skeer'd,  Miss  Fanny, 
I  was  dar,  lall  shady, — and  jes'  as  he  goes  to  puttin' 
in  one  leg  he  kotch  it,  lor'  a  massy,  Miss  Fanny,  all 
dis  big  double  fis'  wid  de  bones  in,  right  spang  in  de 
eyes,  and  down  he  drapped  wid  de  ladder  over  him, 
an'  I  kep'  shady  still,  jes'  to  see  if  he  was  gwine  to 
try  it  agin,  Miss  Fanny !  Wall,  he  lay  dar  so  quiet, 
dat  I  goes  down  an'  puts  away  de  ladder,  jes'  to  bod- 
der  'em,  an'  den  I  goes  and  wakes  up  Massa  Jake 
Bagly,  an'  de  poor  silly  niggers  all  over  de  place  jes' 
swar  for  sartin  it  was  de  debbil,  an'  guess  Massa  Slunk 
tink  so,  too,  for  he  nebber  get  hit  dat  way  afore,  for 
sure !" 

The  wench  wound  up  her  story  with  a  convulsion 
of  laughter,  and  Fanny  and  the  vocalist  were  equally 
wrapt  up  in  amazement,  at  the  atrocity  of  the  attempt, 
and  the  manner  of  its  defeat ;  it  was  indeed  news  to 
both  of  them. 

"Is  it  possible,"  at  length  said  Fitzcarol,  "that  you 
have  been  exposed  to  these  outrages !  As  sure  as 
I'm  alive,  Miss  Fanny,  I  will  punish  that  man  se 
verely." 

«  Oh,  do  not  interfere  ;  you  are  not  used  to  fight 
ing  !"  cried  Fanny ;  and  this  was  accompanied  by  a 

6 


82  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

look  of  generous  pity,  as  it  were,  for  the  disfigured 
vocalist's  fancy,  that  he  could  even  acquire  a  know 
ledge  of  that  accomplishment ! 

"But  I  will  fight,  Miss  Fanny,  and  he  shall  fight! 
He  has  insulted  us  all,  and  I  will  fight !" 

"And  can  you  really  fight,  Mr.  Fitzcarol  ?"  said 
Fanny,  with  an  innocent  yet  anxious  air  of  in 
quiry. 

"I  never  have,  Miss  Fanny,"  replied  Fitz,  "but 
that  man  is  a  ruffian,  and  it  is  impossible  that  he  can 
stand  before  a  gentleman,  fairly." 

Fanny's  pale  cheek  grew  red,  her  eyes  sparkled,  and, 
as  if  suddenly  assured,  she  started  from  her  chair  and 
took  her  champion's  hands : 

«  Then  fight  him,  Mr.  Fitzcarol !  Fight  him  !  pun 
ish  him  ! — not  because  he  has  insulted  me,  but  because 
he  could,  under  any  circumstances,  oppress  a  poor 
lone  girl !  Fight  him,  and  I  will  pray  for  you  !  Fight 
him,  and  I  will  thank  you — bless  you — love  you  all 
my  life » 

Fanny's  torrent  of  emotion  was  checked  by  a  knock 
at  the  door.  Mr.  Bagly  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Fitzcarol, 
down  stairs, — and  Mr.  Fitzcarol  was  eager  at  once  to 
see  Mr.  Bagly,  for  he  brought  a  challenge,  no  doubt — 
and,  with  Fanny's  earnest  gratitude  ringing  in  the  vo 
calist's  ears,  and  her  tearful  yet  sparkling  eyes  glitter 
ing  in  his  brain,  he  felt  more  like  a  hero  than  if  he 
had  twice  his  nose  !  He  was  occupying  "  a  position !" 
He  was,  in  large  letters,  a  star !  yes,  he  was  once  more 
«  a  feature  !" 

Mr.  Bagly  had  brought  a  challenge,  which  was  ac 
cepted  at  once,  and  Fitz  was  just  endeavouring  to 
think  of  «  a  friend,"  when  he  saw  the  editor  of  the 


THE   DRAMA   IN    POKERVILLE.  83 

Palladium,  who,  among-  his  limited  acquaintance, 
would  probably  do  as  well  as  any  other.  Mr.  Case 
was  very  sorry,  lamented  the  necessity,  &c.,  but  it  was 
good  matter  for  the  paper,  and  Mr.  Case  would  serve, 
certainly.  He  retired  with  Mr.  Bagly,  and,  after  a 
time,  returned  to  tell  his  principal  that  every  thing 
was  arranged  for  half  an  hour  after  dinner— pistols, 
ten  paces,  back  of  the  grave-yard,  &c.  The  hour  was 
an  unusual  one,  but  the  thing  would  be  settled  the 
sooner ;  and,  after  all,  it  was  much  more  sensible  to 
fight  on  roast-beef  and  brandy  and  water,  than  on  a 
biscuit  and  cup  of  coffee.  Mr.  Fitz  was  equally  satis 
fied  with  the  arrangement,  and  the  philosophy  of  it, 
and  so  went  to  take  a  long  walk,  happier  in  Miss 
Fanny's  heart-kindling  warmth  of  gratitude  than  he 
had  been  since  his  first  triumphant  success  in  Count 
Belino  ! 


THE  GREAT  SMALL  AFPAIK  DUEL. 

THE  Pokerville  dinners  were  proverbiallyy<zs£,  but 
there  never  had  been  such  time  made  as  at  the  hotel 
on  this  occasion  !  It  was  a  single  dash  ;  and  from  the 
start,  on  bacon  and  greens,  to  the  come  home,  on  ap 
ple-pie,  it  was  whip  and  spur,  and  no  mistake  about 
it !  It  was  to  be  none  of  your  sneaking,  shivering, 
break  o'  day  duels,  but  a  sociable  meeting  for  the 
benefit  of  all,  and,  apparently,  all  were  determined  to 
avail  themselves  of  it.  And  now,  in  order  that  Poker 
ville  should  have  no  advantage  over  the  reader,  he 
had  better  be  let,  at  once,  into  the  town  secret,  namely, 


84  THE   DRAMA    IN    POKER VILLE. 

that  it  was  to  be  a  sham  duel,  at  the  expense  of  the 
town-quiz,  «  Old  Figurehead  ;"  otherwise  the  "  Fea 
ture  ;"  otherwise  Mr.  Fitzcarol !  It  was  another  of 
Mr.  Jake  Bagly's  ideas,  who,  since  the  brilliant  suc 
cess  of  the  'possum  and  murder  hoaxes,  was  a  "  big 
dog"  as  well  as  the  doctor,  and  could  do  as  he 
«  d — d  pleased,"  any  how  !  He  proposed  it ;  the 
doctor  objected,  swearing  he'd  have  a  sure  enough 
shot ;  but  then  he  reflected  that  he'd  have  to  stand 
a  sure  enough  shot  in  return,  and  so  he  gradually 
yielded  to  his  friend's  arguments ;  which  were,  that 
the  singer,  being  made  to  believe  that  he  had  killed 
his  antagonist,  and  being  threatened  with  a  lynch 
ing,  would  leave  town  at  once,  and  so  yield  the 
field  and  Fanny  to  his  rival,  without  the  fuss  of  an 
inquest,  burial,  &c.  Doctor  Slunk  hated  his  an 
tagonist  heartily,  for,  albeit,  he  had  commenced  by 
despising  him,  yet  his  own  lack  of  success  with  Fan 
ny  had  taught  him  jealousy  of  another,  and,  finally, 
if  it  were  not  the  vocalist  who  had  knocked  him  off 
the  ladder,  who  the  d — 1  could  it  have  been  ?  How 
ever,  he  consented  ;  and  Mr.  Case,  of  the  Palladium, 
did  not  require  much  urging,  either,  to  join  in  the 
laugh  against  such  a  <«  soft  shell"  as  his  phiz-battered 
principal  was,  and  so  the  word  was  passed  about,  and 
all  was  settled. 

The  grave-yard  was  just  back  of  Pokerville  ;  and 
just  back  of  the  grave-yard,  between  the  wall  and  the 
wood,  was  a  retired  little  strip  of  grass,  very  much 
frequented  by  cattle,  and  which,  these  latter  driven 
from  their  ruminations,  would  answer  very  well  as  a 
duelling-ground. 

The  grave-yard  wall  was  lined  with  heads,  and  from 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  OO 

behind  every  tree,  on  the  other  side,  stood  a  peeping 
spectator.  In  the  centre,  stood  a  group  composed  of 
Dr.  Slunk,  his  second,  and  surgeon  ;  and  now,  amid  a 
very  becoming  gravity,  (Pokerville  wags  being  famous 
for  thin  faces,)  Mr.  Busby  Case  drove  up  with  his  prin 
cipal.  The  "feature"  got  out  quietly,  received  the 
case  of  pistols  ;  Mr.  Case  hitched  his  horse,  and  "the 
parties"  confronted  each  other.  Dr.  Slunk's  air  was 
implacable,  and  Mr.  Bagly's  was  haughty ;  the  surgeon 
had  already  made  formidable  parade  of  his  instru 
ments,  and  there  was  bloody  work  in  preparation,  sure 
as  shooting.  Mr.  Bagly  had  a  few  words  with  his 
principal,  who  drew  himself  up  twice  as  stiffly ;  and 
Mr.  Case  had  a  few  words  with  his  principal,  who 
merely  pointed  to  the  pistol  case ;  and  then  the  two 
seconds  approached,  and  then  the  pistols  were  loaded, 
and  there  was  a  toss-up  for  choice  of  them,  and  another 
toss-up  for  the  word  ;  and  then  the  ground  was  mea 
sured,  and  then  the  parties  were  placed.  The  bob- 
bing-up  from  behind  the  wall  and  from  behind  the  trees 
was  very  active  now,  for  a  minute  ;  but  each  got  his 
agreeable  point  of  sight,  and  things  went  on  once  more 
very  decorously.  Somehow  or  other  the  "  feature"  had 
not  shown  the  least  uneasiness  or  alarm,  so  far,  and 
there  was  nothing  to  laugh  at.  He  was  there  prepared 
coolly  to  behave  like  a  man  ;  and  some  few,  who  were 
not  altogether  satisfied  that  Dr.  Slunk  was  Julius 
Caesar,  began  to  wish  that  it  was  a  downright  test  of 
behaviour  on  both  parts. 

«  Gentlemen,"  said  Dave  Bagly,  in  a  severe  voice, 
as  if  in  full  militia  uniform,  «  attention !  You  remem 
ber  the  terms  :  fire  between  one  and  three.  We  have 
the  word :  Are  you  ready  ?" 


OD  THE    DRAMA    IN   POKERVILLE. 

The  word  was  given — the  discharges  were  together 
— when  D».  Slunk  dropped  his  pistol  and  staggered  ! 
Taking  his  hand  away  from  his  side,  there  appeared  a 
dismal  blotch  of  blood,  and  now,  in  the  act  of  «  biting 
the  dust,"  he  suddenly  arrested  his  fall  and  stood  up 
again,  as  if  looking  for  a  clean  place  ;  for,. as  has  been 
remarked,  the  cows  had  been  there,  and  the  doctor  had 
but  just  escaped  them,  curse  them !  He  now  fell  as 
if  very  dead ;  but  his  balk  had  raised  a  scream  of 
laughter  from  every  throat,  and  his  antagonist,  sur 
prised  at  it,  also  seemed  to  be  suddenly  struck  with 
the  truth,  and,  collaring  Mr.  Busby  Case,  he  demanded 
to  know  if  he  had  been  trifled  with  ? 

"  N-n-ow,  don't  be  angry !"  Mr.  Case  would  have 
said ;  but  his  first  stammer  was  enough,  and,  before  he 
could  articulate  a  syllable,  he  received  a  sling  and  a 
kick  that  sent  him  headlong  under  his  own  buggy  ! 
Two  springs,  and  the  "  feature"  had  Dr.  Slunk  and 
and  his  second  by  their  respective  collars !  Cheer 
after  cheer  now  broke  from  every  side,  and  the  crowd 
gathering  round,  with  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling, 
not  one  among  them  but  would  have  heartily  seen  the 
two  captive  contrivers  kicked  into  fits  first,  and  into 
the  river  afterwards.  Mr.  Dave  Bagly  drew  his  bowie- 
knife  ;  but  dropped  it  immediately,  as  Tom  Sky  popped 
into  the  «  feature's"  hand  a  revolver,  while  the  doctor, 
with  his  green  look,  endeavored  to  smile,  but  only  to 
make  his  ugly  captor  thrice  handsome  by  comparison. 

"  Gentlemen,  all,"  said  the  vocalist,  as  if  afraid  of 
indulging  his  passion,  « I  am  entirely  unused  to  these 
affairs.  I  hardly  know  the  etiquette;  but,  really,  I 
think  I  ought  to  cut  the  ears  from  these  persons!" 

"Go  it!"  cried  a  dozen  voices;  "put  it  to   'em, 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  87 

Fitz  ;  you're  a  team,  by  thunder !"     «  D d  shame, 

any  how."     «  Can't  bluff  you,  old  hoss."  -  "  No  back 
out,"  &c.  &c. 

A  tremendous  big  boatman  now  whipped  a  cord  out 
of  his  pocket,  bound  the  hands  of  Slunk  and  his  second, 
and  then  made  a  dart  at  Mr.  Busby  Case ;  but  that 
sufficiently  cautioned  gentleman,  already  in  his  buggy, 
now  set  off,  express,  for  the  Palladium  office.  "No 
other  paper  had  the  news"  on  that  occasion  distinctly. 

The  "  First  singer" — and  wasn't  he  a  first  singer 
in  this  business? — would  not  push  his  triumph  to  ex 
tremity  ;  nor  is  it  necessary  to  detail  all  Dr.  Slunk's 
dogged  apologies  and  acknowledgments.  Suffice,  that 
all  Pokerville  «  got  the  hang"  of  the  Miss  WilkinsV 
mystery  at  last ;  that  she  was  a  confessed  angel  at  once, 
and  that  her  champion  was  the  only  feature  in  town  ! 
As  for  Cynthy,  she  received  more  dresses,  and  shoes, 
and  half-hand  kerchiefs,  and  half  dollars,  than  she 
knew  what  to  do  with,  while  her  midnight  achieve 
ment  was  sung  to  banjo  accompaniments  on  every 
plantation  in  the  neighbourhood. 

The  Dust  party  was  nowhere !  There  wasn't  enough 
of  it  left  to  render  a  broom  necessary.  The  benefit 
was  another  dismiss  ;  and,  moreover,  two  weeks'  salary 
being  due  next  morning,  and  Manager  D.  having  been 
cleaned  out  on  the  Saturday  night  previous,  all  he  had 
to  do  was  to  bring  his  season  to  a  premature  close, 
and  leave  his  foundation  in  Pokerville  to  be  built  on 
by  some  more  fortunate  architect. 

But  wasn't  there  a  house  a  few  nights  afterwards, 
when  Miss  Fanny  Wilkins's  complimentary  concert 
came  off?  Not  only  Mrs.  Major  Slope,  but  Mr.  Major 
Slope  "  patronized"  it  heartily  ;  while  Mrs.  Store-shed 


00  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

Wilson,  and  even  Parson  Hyme's  strict  church  mem 
bers,  turned  out  en  masse,  more  particularly  as  it  wasn't 
to  "  a  play."  The  editor  of  the  Palladium  made  the 
amende  honorable,  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  and 
even  acted  as  door-keeper,  simply  keeping  out  of  the 
receipts  the  amount  of  "  the  bills  ;"  and,  when  all  the 
encores  were  over,  and  Mr.  Fitzcarol  got  quite  as 
many  of  them  as  the  other  «  feature,"  and  the  wreath 
was  thrown,  and  the  gentleman  led  forward  the  lady  to 
crown  her,  and  did  it  very  gallantly  "at  that,"  amid 
the  applause  and  enthusiasm,  there  was  more  than  one 
who  whispered  that  they  "  wouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised 
if  it  were  a  match,  after  all." 


WHAT  WAS  BUILT  ON  THE  GREAT   SMALL 
AFFAIR  FOUNDATION. 

IN  these  latter-day  times,  it  is  but  a  small  skip  from 
Pokerville  to  one  of  the  large  Atlantic  cities ;  so,  if 
you  please,  in  one  of  them,  tolerably  up  town,  you  will 
imagine  a  snug  little  house  standing  back,  with  a  grass- 
plat  in  front ;  and,  now,  walking  in  with  us,  you  will 
see  in  the  back  room  a  tidy,  round  little  woman,  laugh 
ing  all  over  her  face,  and  clapping  her  hands,  and,  ever 
and  anon,  running  up  to  a  bed  and  poking  her  finger 
into  the  fat  sides  of  an  «  uncommon  fine  child,"  which 
lies  there  crowing  and  kicking  up  its  rosy  little  feet, 
and  exposing  itself  in  the  highest  style  of  infantile 
abandon. 

It  is  all  nonsense  to  attempt  the  baby-talk;  suffice 
that  it  was  florid  to  a  degree,  and  might  have  puzzled 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  89 

the  most  apt  interpreter  of  maternal  rapture.  One  little 
gush,  though,  from  its  constant  repetition,  might  be 
safely  ventured,  and  that  was,  that  the  «  Dod-a-bessed, 
had  faser's  eyes,  and  faser's  mouse,  and  faser's  nosey, 
too!" 

In  the  midst  of  the  exercise,  a  carriage  was  heard  to 
drive  up  without,  and,  running  to  the  front  window, 
the  little  woman  heightened  her  smile  by  a  rosy  flush 
and  a  radiant  sparkle  that  rendered  her,  actually,  little 
less  than  an  illumination ! 

"  Why,  I  declare,"  cried  she,  »  if  Fitz  hasn't  brought 
home  Mam'selle  Nathalie  to  see  baby!" 

And  wasn't  the  door  thrown  open,  and  the  hall-chairs 
set  back  for  the  richest  kind  of  a  dress,  shawl,  &c., 
garbing  as  they  did  a  really  kind  and  benevolent  crea 
ture  ;  albeit  she  did  certainly  put  the  screws  to  the 
managers  awfully  during  her  "  extraordinary  successful 
engagements,"  which  invariably  closed  the  theatre  for 
the  rest  of  the  season  ! 

"  Well,  you  are  so  kind,  mam'selle — yes,  the  passage 
is  too  narrow,  and  the  chains  shall  come  out,  Fitz. 
This  way,  mam'selle ;  I  know  what  you've  come  to 
see ;  and  it's  been  laughing  and  crowing  so  all  the 
morning,  just  as  if  it  knew  you  w,ere  coming.  There, 
now,  take  off  your  hat,  and,  Fitz,  you  get  a  glass  ol 
wine,  and — stop,  now  stop — don't  look  yet, — there  ! 
Don't  you  hear  it  ?  Coo-oo-oo-oo." 

"  Fanny,  Fanny,"  said  Mr.  Fitzcarol,  with  a  tone  of 
indulgent  censure,  yet  with  a  round  smile  circling  the 
zig-zag  of  his  usual  expression,  "what  a  fool  you  do 
make  of  yourself  with  that  child.  Let  me  show  it  to 
you,  mam'selle  ; — coo-oo-oo-oo" — 

And  then  Mr.  Fitz  poked  his  fingers  in  its  sides, 
T 


90  THE    DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE. 

and  dandled,  and  danced  it,  and,  finally,  afler  a  score 
of  kisses  all  round,  it  was  put  back  on  the  bed,  and 
there  was  a  comparative  calm  in  the  house. 

And  this  was  the  celebrated  Mam'selle  Nathalie, 
now  the  idol  of  both  hemispheres,  the  queen  of  the 
ballet,  the  preservation  of  whose  legs,  years  before,  as 
has  been  mentioned,  cost  poor  unselfish  Mr.  Fitzcarol 
alike  his  "position"  and  his  nose!  The  ci-devant 
"  feature"  had  at  length  settled  down  into  obscurity 
and  a  good  salary,  as  prompter  of  a  leading  theatre, 
where  his  steadiness  and  conscientious  observance  of 
duty  made  him  an  « invaluable  man,"  and  where  his 
cheerful,  grateful,  and  affectionate  little  wife,  with  her 
bright  face  and  naive  manners,  was  a  perfect  «  pet" — 
and  an  unspoiled  one — as  the  representative  of  every 
possible  description  of  smart,  tidy,  piquant  little  body 
in  cap,  ribands,  and  apron.  Mam'selle  Nathalie  had 
thus  found  her  old  acquaintance,  and,  full  of  lively 
recollection — for  the  indescribably  sweet  smile  which 
gave  witchery  to  her  other  graces  had  its  origin  in  a 
refined  nature — she  had  taken  the  first  opportunity  of 
evincing  the  interest  she  took  in  his  unostentatious 
menage. 

«  Ah,  'tis  sweet  enfcnt,  Monsieur  Feets  ;  and  'tis  ver 
like  you,  too,  mon  cher  ogly,  old  fren,  for  I  see  <  Otel- 
lo's  visage  en  his  face,'  comme  say  you  grand  poete 
Shakspierre !" 

If  she  had  said  «  in  his  mind"  she  would  have  been 
nearer  the  author,  but  it  was  pretty  well  for  a  French 
quotation  of  him,  and  it  pleased  papa  amazingly.  The 
truth  is,  he  had  experienced  much  anxiety  of  mind 
with  regard  to  the  expected  baby's  probable  mould  oi 
feature;  for  albeit  "faser's  nose"  is  always  the  first 


THE   DRAMA    IN    POKERVILLE.  91 

trait  to  trace  the  desired  resemblance  in,  he  was  not 
exactly  sure,  being  in  all  things  a  primitive  creature, 
but  that  a  broken  nasus,  especially  one  of  such  long 
standing,  might  transmit  itself.  What  was  his  satisfac 
tion,  then,  to  find  the  young  one  just  as  much  a  roman 
as  if  he  had  been  born  years  before !  It  showed,  too, 
that  beneath  his  present  mask  mam'selle  saw,  gratefully, 
only  the  good-looking  face  of  her  early  friend,  the 
"first  singer.' 

"  Do  you  know,  mam'selle,"  chimed  in  Mrs.  Fanny, 
"that  is  what  I'm  always  telling  him,  though  he  only 
says  <  pshaw !'  I  can  see  every  line  of  his  face,  in  ba 
by's,  just  as  well  as  I  can  see  my  own  in  a  glass ;  ana 
I  know  by  that  just  exactly  how  he  looked  before  his 
accident,  poor  fellow ; — not  that  that  makes  any  differ 
ence,  for  I  do  believe  I  love  him  twice  as  well  for  it; — 
and  when  I  remember  that  I  used  at  one  time  to  think 
him  almost  a  fright,  I  love  him  twice  as  well  for  that — 
for  he  risked  his  life  for  me,  mam'selle  ;  and,  more 
than  that,  he  saved  me  from  insult  and  undeserved 
shame ;  he  did,  and  without  expectation  of  return,  or 
even  the  idea  that  I  ever  could  love  him — my  poor 
dear  Fitz!"  And  here  the  little  woman  "boo-hoo'd 
right  out,"  as  the  orientals  of  Varmount  have  it,  and 
threw  herself  incontinently  full  on  to  his  breast,  and 
hung  round  his  neck,  and  went  on  in  a  surprising  way 
for  such  a  mere  artificial  as  an  actress. 

The  great  "  star"  wiped  her  eyes,  and  then  kissed 
sobbing  Mrs.  Fanny,  fondly,  and  shook  the  overcome 
prompter  feelingly  by  the  hand,  and  finally  kissed  and 
hugged  the  baby,  once  more,  as  if  it  had  been  her  own. 
By  this  time,  all  were  smiling  again  and  saying, 
«pshaw,  how  foolish !"  And,  now,  mam'selle  declared 


92  THE   DRAMA    IN  POKERVILLE. 

her  intention  of  staying  to  dinner,  spending  the  after 
noon,  and  riding  down  to  the  theatre  for  the  perform 
ance  ;  an  arrangement  which  just  put  the  last  inde 
scribable  ^tint  upon  the  coleur  de  rose  of  the  most  oddly- 
paired  and  happiest  couple  that  ever  "  smelt  the  lamps." 

"Curtain  bell,"  as  they  have  it  in  the  prompt-books; 
so  once  more  imagine  the  snug  dinner,  and  the  cheerful 
chat,  and  the  broken  English,  and  the  sprinkle  of  mu 
sic,  and  the  cup  of  delicious  tea,  and  the  announce 
ment  of  "carriage  is  come;  and,  last  of  all,  as  being 
the  most  fitting  moment,  the  kind  offer  of  mam'selle  to 
dance  «  one  leetle  pas"  for  the  benefit  of  her  old 
"  Dieu"  preserver! 

It  was  proper — just — but  more,  it  was  delicately  done, 
and  the  gratitude  it  earned  was  as  that  due  to  a  sister! 
It  was  a  handsome  instalment  on  a  great  debt,  but  its 
chief  value  was  in  the  rich  music  of  the  heart  which  it 
inspired,  on  both  sides.  And  now,  with  the  applica 
tion  for  places  ringing  in  our  ears,  and  the  comfortable 
consequences  revealing  themselves  to  our  ready  per 
ceptions  of  the  agreeable,  we  tuck  up  the  baby,  leave 
hrice  repeated,  and  every  way  unnecessary  injunctions 
vith  the  sufficiently  experienced  nurse,  look  at  the  fire, 
ilow  out  the  candle,  pack  ourselves  with  a  band-box 
.nto  the  carriage  along  with  the  happy  « star"  and 
loubly  happy  lesser  lights,  and  leaving  them  at  the 
orilliant  and  already  crowded  theatre,  we  light  a  cigar, 
with  the  reflection,  «  Well,  thus  much  good,  at  least, 
eame  of  the  foundation  of  THE  DRAMA  IN  POKERVILLE!" 


THE  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  JURYTOWN. 


JURYTOWN  is  the  greatest  place  in  the  west,  as  every 
body  knows ;  and  the  next  tallest  thing  to  its  liberty- 
pole,  is  its  court-house,  which  beats  its  big  hotel  all  to 
smash,  though  it  ain't  half  finished  either.  When 
said  court-house  shall  get  its  pillars  up,  and  its  pave 
ments  down,  according  to  confident  calculations,  it  is 
«  bound"  to  lay  every  thing  in  the  way  of  architec 
ture  west  of  the  Alleghanies  «  out  cold,"  and  no  mis 
take! 

Jurytown  has  its  circuit  court,  and  its  county  court, 
and  its  criminal  court,  and  its  common  pleas,  to  say 
nothing  of  minor  tribunals,  including  «  any  quantity" 
of  justices  of  profound  capacity.  The  Bar  of  Jury- 
town  is  of  a  like  extensive  scale,  doubtless,  much  to 
said  bar's  own  satisfaction,  and  the  admiration  of  all 
beside.  Decayed  two-story  houses,  dark  passages,  and 
dingy  "  shingles"  abound,  of  course,  as  well  as  the 
corresponding  number  of  brilliant  speakers,  shining 
politicians,  and  disinterested  candidates.  It  is  a  great 
treat  to  contemplate,  occasionally,  the  Bench  and  Bar 
of  Jurytown.  The  scene  is  of  a  very  republican  cha 
racter,  still,  fortunately ;  bare  throats,  shirt  sleeves,  and 
tobacco,  retaining  the  ascendency  over  emasculate  black 
coats,  clean  floors,  and  etiquette. 


94      THE  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  JURYTOWN. 

"To  be  A — No.  1,"  amid  these  perfections  is,  of 
course,  high  honour;  and  Judge  Frill's  court  is  the 
model  court  of  Jurytown.  Judge  Frill  is  a  refined 
man,  was  "  ever  so  long  at  college,"  and  ain't  done 
"learnin'  things"  yet;  has  a  heap  of  money,  more 
over,  and  wears  gold  spectacles  !  Judge  Frill,  when 
he  mounted  the  bench,  went  in  for  having  things  right, 
of  course ;  he  objected  to  shirt  sleeves,  eschewed  to 
bacco,  and  decidedly  set  his  face  against  swearing— 
except  in  the  legal  form.  Judge  Frill,  though,  hadn't  a 
fair  shake  at  first ;  he  held  his  court  in  a  rather  scant 
pattern  of  an  apartment  of  the  old  building,  which 
didn't  second  his  dignity  at  all,  and  it  was  therefore  a 
proud  day  for  him,  when,  translated  to  his  grand  new 
room  in  the  great  new  court-house,  he  viewed  his  more 
fitting  stage  of  judicial  action.  The  cause  was  one  of 
intense  interest. 

Mr.  Grire,  a  "powerful  man,"  was  expected  to  make 
a  "great  effort ;"  the  new  court-house  itself  was  a 
matter  of  curiosity,  and,  over  piles  of  brick,  through  a 
sedge  of  shavings,  all  Jurytown  precipitated  itself  into 
Judge  Frill's  future  temple.  The  crowd  was  dense, 
the  day  warm,  coat  sleeves  were  numerous,  and  to 
bacco  abundant.  The  front  spittors  in  the  gallery,  un 
der  the  press,  distributed  their  salivary  favours,  indis 
criminately,  below ;  the  spittees  below  were  equally 
liberal  towards  each  others'  legs,  and  what  with  the 
blowing  of  noses,  and  a  characteristic  bronchitis,  there 
was  the  most  awful  clearing  of  throats,  hawking,  and 
horn-blowing  that  ever  Judge  Frill  had  listened  to  !*  It 
must  here  be  stated,  that  the  judge — whether  it  was 
that  he  always  had  something  at  the  tip  of  his  tongue, 
which  he  never  let  go  ofF,  or  for  some  other  reason  — 


THE  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  JURYTOWN.       95 

it  really  was  not  affectation,  could  not  trill  the  letter 
R,  he  invariably  made  a  W  of  it ;  and  thus  it  was  under 
the  most  imperative  orders  that  "  Mr.  Sheriff"  and  Mr. 
"  Gwire,"  and  a  number  of  other  officials,  now  set  to 
work  to  obtain  silence,  and  an  observance  of  court 
etiquette. 

The  court  was  opened,  and  the  cause  commenced, 
but  under  the  disadvantages  of  disturbing  causes  which 
sorely  troubled  Judge  Frill's  official  equilibrium.  A 
new  judge  in  a  new  court- room  ;  and,  if  he  was  na 
turally  fastidious,  he  was  now  somewhat  fussy.  The 
cause,  amid  interruptions  both  from  bench  and  au 
dience,  had  struggled  on,  and  Mr.  Grire  was  in  his 
argument  when  Judge  Frill,  in  evident  fidgets,  cried: 

"  Stop,  Mr.  Gwiah !  Mr.  Sheriff,  this  court  can't 
hear,  and.it  insists  upon  respect !"  Mr.  Sheriff  bawled 
out,  «  Si-Ze/ice,"  in  a  tone  that  deafened  all  but  him 
self;  and  Judge  Frill,  in  a  bland  manner,  said,  "  Pro 
ceed,  Mr.  Gwiah."  Mr.  Gwiah  did  "proceed,"  and, 
albeit  there  was  a  considerable  snorting  and  spitting, 
still  the  jury  and  audience  were  becoming  quite  inte 
rested,  when  Judge  Frill  again  interrupted : 

«  Stop,  Mr.  Gwiah,  Mr.  Shewiff !  This  court  de 
sires  that  you  would  signify  that  this  court  can't  go  on 
unless  there  is  less  hawking  in  the  gallewy !" 

"  Si-lence,  and  stop  spitting !"  fulmined  Mr.  Sheriff, 
at  the  same  time  changing  his  own  old  quid  for  a  juicy 
three  fingers'  full. 

« Pwoceed,  Mr.  Gwiah,"  said  Judge  Frill,  once 
more,  with  a  gracious  wave  of  the  hand ;  but  scarcely 
had  the  restive  orator  given  a  toss  of  the  head  before 
ne  was  again  checked  with  a 

"  Stop,  Mr.  Gwiah.     This  court  insists  upon  pwoper 


96  THE   BENCH    AND    BAR    OF   JURYTOWtf. 

etiquette.  Mr.  Sheriff!  Mr..She«riff!"  But  this  high 
officer  was  absent,  having  privately  withdrawn  for  some 
unaccountable  reason. 

"  This  court  can't  go  on,  Mr.  Gwiah,  without  its 
proper  officers.  Mr.  Sheriff" — an  active  search  had 
been  instituted,  of  course,  and  "Mr.  Sheriff"  now 
appeared  at  a  side-door,  very  much  flurried,  and  ad 
justing  his  dress. 

"  Please   your   hbnour,"   said   he,    "  I  was   really 
obliged  to" — «  Oh,  yes,  I  see,"  interrupted  the  judge 
with  a  grave  yet  benign  recognition  of  human  neces 
sities,  "I  see!  Mr.  Sheriff,   this  court  directs  you  to 
take  down  that  leg!" 

Judge  Frill  here  pointed  with  great  determination  at 
a  sort  of  privileged  worthy  who  was  in  the  habit  of 
haunting  the  court-rooms,  and  who  now  sat  within  the 
bar,  with  one  leg  thrown  over  the  railing.  Mr.  Sheriff 
deliberately  « took  down"  the  leg,  to  its  owner's  amaze 
ment  ;  and  Mr.  "Gwiah"  once  more  had  permission  to 
proceed.  Chafed,  and  absolutely  pawing,  off  he 
dashed,  made  a  good  quarter,  and  was  exhibiting 
a  "straight  tail,"  when  the  gates  were  shut  before 
him. 

"Stop,  Mr.  Gwiah !  Mr.  She?0ifF;  this  court  can't 
hear !  This  court  directs  that  the  windows  be  closed, 
forthwith." 

As  stated,  it  was  a  warm  day,  and  this  order  was 
received  with  a  general  "whew!"  and  a  terribly  in 
creased  hawking,  but  "  si-lence"  resounded,  and  bound 
ed,  as  it  were,  from  wall  to  wall,  and  down  came  the 
sashes. 

"  Proceed,  Mr.  Gwiah."     But  it  would  have  take 
more  mettle  than  half  a  dozen  orators  could  have  com- 


THE  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  JURYTOWN.       97 

manded,  to  have  carried  him  through  the  snorting, 
blowing,  and  "whewing"  that  now  prevailed;  he 
made  a  brush  for  it,  however,  when  the  futile  effort 
was,  this  time,  considerately  arrested. 

"Stop,  Mr.  Gwiah  ;  this  court  is  satisfied  that  the 
last  expedient  of  this  court  is  ineffectual.  Mr.  Sheriff, 
open  the  windows."  "Agh!"  breathed  everybody, 
with  intense  satisfaction,  and  at  the  same  time,  as  if  to 
repay  themselves  for  recent  deprivation,  every  mother's 
son  indulged  in  a  new  chew  and  a  hearty  expectora 
tion. 

"Stop,  Mr.  Gwiah."  Mr.  Gwiah  hadn't  exactly 
recommenced  ;  but  Judge  Frill  had  adopted  this  form 
of  blank ,  as  it  were. 

"This  court  can't  hear!  Mr.  Sheriff,  you  will 
please  learn  if  there  is  any  one  acquainted  with  the 
science  of  sound  present,  in  order  that  this  court  may 
ascertain  why  it  can't  hear." 

Th.ere  was  a  great  deal  of  ceremonious  inquiry,  and 
one  gentleman  was  named  ;  but  it  turned  out  that  his 
only  knowledge  of  sound  consisted  in  the  art  and  mys 
tery  of  tuning  pianos.  Another  young  gentleman  was 
an  optician  ;  that  is,  he  made  spectacles,  and  that  was 
pretty  near,  but  still  not  satisfactory.  At  length  the 
old  worthy,  who  had  had  his  leg  taken  down,  named 
Dr.  Stofflebricht,  whose  name  frequently  had  appeared 
in  the  papers  in  connection  with  hard  words  and  un 
known  discoveries,  was  called  and  stood  up,  perfectly 
prepared  to  make  himself  understood  in  any  known 
language,  except  English. 

Dr.  Stofflebricht,  aided  by  his  eyebrows,  shoulders, 
hands,  and  an  interpreter — all  fully  employed — was 
going  deeply  into  acoustic  principles .  talking  about 

7 


98       THE  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  JURYTOWN. 

elastic  media,  vibratory  motion,  and  the  tympanum, 
when  his  science  was  cut  short. 

««  Stop,  Dr.  Stofflebricht ;  this  court  simply  wants  to 
know  if  there  is  any  thing  in  the  construction  of  this 
hall  which  forbids  this  court  hearing." 

A  terrible  hammering  immediatelyover"this  court's" 
head,  induced  as  sudden  a  call  for  Mr.  Sheriff:  "  Mr. 
Sheriff,  this  court  directs  that  you  instantly  forbid 
those  workmen  stopping  this  court  by  their  hammering. 
Proceed,  Dr.  Stofflebricht ;  this  court  wishes  to  know 
if  you  detect  any  fault  of  construction  in  this  hall  ?" 

Dr.  Stofflebricht  was  again  running  into  the  intrica 
cies  of  deflection  and  reflection.  «  Stop,  Dr.  Stoffle 
bricht.  Mr.  Sheriff,  what  do  those  workmen  say  to 
this  court  ?" 

"  Why,  they  say  they  won't  /"  A  trebled  thunder 
ing  above  sufficiently  backed  the  declaration  of  their 
intentions. 

"Mr.  Sheriff,  go  instantly  to  those  workmen,  and 
say  that  this  court  says  they  must  stop  their  hammer 
ing.  Proceed,  Dr.  Stofflebricht."  But,  instead  of 
opening  the  mouth,  it  was  more  necessary  to  stop  the 
ears  at  this  moment — a  perfect  battery  of  hammers 
having  opened  them !  The  storm  was  kept  up,  and, 
finally,  the  sheriff  again  made  his  appearance. 

"Mr.  Sheriff,"  cried  Judge  Frill,  now  decidedly 
roused  to  an  assertion  of  every  inch  of  his  dignity, 
««  what  do  those  workmen  say  to  this  court  now  ?" 

"  Why,"  replied  the  sheriff,  "  they  say  that  this  court 
may  go  to  h — 11 !" 

«  Proceed,  Dr.  Stofflebricht — " 

There  was  an  end  to  the  proceedings,  though ;  for 
at  that  moment,  a  quarter  section  of  plaster,  loosened 


THE  BENCH  AND  BAR  OF  JURYTOWN.       99 

by  the  rattle  above,  came  smothering  down  upon  Judge 
Frill's  head,  desk,  and  other  movables !  A  scream 
that  the  house  was  falling  adding  to  the  dust,  Judge 
Frill  himself  proceeded  out  of  the  side-door  without 
further  notice  of  adjournment ;  and  "Mr.  Sheriff" 
departed  to  "  wash  his  mouth  out,"  himself  in  charge 
of  the  jury.  A  correct  ffturn  of  killed  and  wounded 
was  never  published  ;  nor  did  Judge  Frill  prosecute 
inquiry  into  the  matter — not  desiring,  we  suppose,  to 
undergo  a  second  Jurytown  hammering. 


A  SUCKER  IN  A^ARM  BATH, 


OUR  friend  Louis,  of  the  "  Italian  Baths,"  St.  Louis, 
has  just  about  the  nicest  arrangements  in  the  shape  of 
a  bath  that  an  up-river  man  can  desire ;  but  still  he 
hasn't,  after  all,  got  the  "  latest  touch"  in  the  way  of 
his  cocks,  and  that  we  found  out  recently  at  the  St. 
Charles,  New  Orleans.  We  called  in  to  see  our  old 
acquaintance,  the  Irish  lady,  who  does  the  towels ,  &c., 
and  who — more  stretch  to  her  girdle — resembles  no 
thing  fleshly  in  petticoats,  except  it  be  Falstaff,  dis 
guised  as  the  "  fat  woman  of  Bentford,"  in  the  Merry 
Wives.  We  were  shown  into  a  bathing-room,  and 
there  we  discovered  that  an  entire  new  plan  of  letting 
in  and  letting  off  the  water  had  been  introduced.  We 
saw  a  shining  brass  plate  with  three  polished  handles, 
having  a  «  crank"  turn,  and  elegantly  lettered  beneath, 
«  Hot,"  «  Cold,"  «  Waste." 

"  D'ye  understand  the  cocks  ?"  said  Mrs.  McTowell. 
"Oh,  certainly,"  said  we,  for  the  credit  of  St.  Louis 
and  the  Italian  Baths.  The  fat  mistress  of  the  myste 
ries  shut  herself  out.  We  went  to  work  very  confi 
dently  at  the  handles  ;  heard  a  desperate  giggling  up 
through  polished  gratings  in  the  bottom  of  the  "  tub ;" 
prepared  ourselves  leisurely  for  the  luxury,  and — but 
we  have  another  story  to  tell  about  the  matter,  and,  as 
100 


A    SUCKER   IN   A    WARM   BATH.  101 

that  other  is  rather  the  richer  of  the  two,  we  shall  only 
say  that,  between  «  hot "  and  "  cold"  we  never  were 
so  cocked  in  our  life.  Having  managed  to  get  a  bath 
on  the  improved  plan  without  exposing  our  ignorance, 
we  left  the  place,  and  were  met  at  the  corner  by  a 
rough,  but  estimable  friend  from  northern  Illinois — 
one  who  has  made  a  fortune  among  the  "  diggings," 
and  one  who  can  afford  to  take  a  «  splurge"  every 
now  and  then  —  so  he  terms  his  occasional  visits  to 
the  large  cities. 

"You  hain't  been  taking  a  bath,  hev  ye  ?"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  was  the  reply. 

"In  them  there  brass  handle  concerns?" 

"Yes, "said  we — "a  great  improvement — obviates 
the  inconvenience  of  the  noise  and  dash  of  the  old 
plan."  We  hope  that  this  public  confession  may  prove 
some  atonement,  but  we  certainly  did  talk  to  our  more 
ingenious  friend  with  an  unblushing  face  upon  the  oc 
casion.  He  roared  out  laughing,  and  gave  us  his  own 
experience  of  the  matter. 

"  Old  Mrs.  Cornfed,  there,"  said  he,  «  asked  me  if  I 
knew  the  cocks,  and  I  told  her  yes,  in  course,  cause 
I'd  bathed  a  few,  /  reckon,  though  not  with  them  kind 
o'  fixins, — and  I  takes  and  turns  them  all,  and  there 
was  all  kinds  of  splutter  below ;  but  when  I  was  ready, 
there  wasn't  a  mite  of  water  in  the  blasted  thing !  It 
just  nat'rally  run  out  as  fast  as  it  run  in,  and  then  I 
know'd  what  <  waste'  meant.  Well,  I  just  fusses  with 
it,  fust  up,  and  then  down,  and  then  one  side,  and  then 
t'other,  till  I  allowed  I'd  shut  the  derned  thing  up, 
cause  the  tub  began  to  fill.  Well,  it  kept  fillin',  and 
fillin',  till  I  reckoned  it  was  about  right,  and  in  I  went, 
one  leg — but,  holy  Egypt!  out  I  came  again,  howling! 


102  A    SUCKER   IN    A   WARM   BATH. 

The  cussed,  eternal  «  cold'  one  hadn't  worked,  I  s'pose, 
and  I  couldn't  a  cum  out  wuss  from  a  seven  biler  ex 
plosion  !  Old  seven  hundred  weight  knocked  at  the 
door ;  <  Perhaps  yes  don't  understand  the  cocks  ?'  says 
she.  '  Cock  thunder  !'  I  sung  out, — but  I  didn't  want 
her  in  to  laugh  at  me ;  and  I  wa'n't  exactly  fit  to  be 
seen  by  a  lady,  either,  if  she  was  fat ;  so  I  said  it  was 
nothin',  and  tried  again  to  get  the  hang  of  the  con- 
sarned  handles,  but  by  this  time  the  tub  was  quite  full, 
and  fo'lin',  at  that,  and  I  kept  turnin'  and  wagglin',  till 
I  rather  guess  I  must  a  started  the  cold  one,  without 
stoppin'  the  hot,  and,  as  it  was  brimmin'  before,  it 
jest  now  nat'rally  overrun,  and  jsrehaps  there  was  the 
derndest  rise  all  over  that  carpet  in  about  two  minutes, 
that  you  ever  did  see. 

«  The  cussed  cocks  wouldn't  stop,  none  of  'em  ;  and 
I  was  hoppin'  about  in  the  water,  and  had  to  sing  out 
for  old  fatty,  any  how !  I'd  rather  a  gin  a  farm,  by 
thunder,  but  out  I  sung,  and  half  opened  the  door 
'fore  I  recollected  about  my  costoome  !  Back  went 
old  fatty  against  the  centre-table,  and  broke  a  pitcher, 
and  I  hopped  on  to  a  chair,  and  into  my  skin  ;  and 
then  I  broke  for  one  of  the  opposite  bathing-rooms, 
and  locked  myself  in,  and  told  the  old  woman  I'd  give 
her  ten  dollars,  if  she  would  swob  up,  hand  me  my  shirt, 
and  say  nothing  about  it !  I  dont  know  whether  she  did 
or  not,  but  I  almost  die  a  laffin,  spite  of  my  sore  leg, 
whenever  I  think  of  it.  I  tell  you  what,"  added  our 
sucker  friend,  "  I  don't  mind  your  havin'  a  lafF,  but  if 
you  go  to  publishing  I'll  shoot  you,  by  gosh  !" 

We  beg  to  assure  our  friend,  that  we  consider  our 
selves  shot ! 


i 

111  ,.-.-,  ,J 


A  SUCKER  IN  A  WARM  BATH. 
"Back  went  old  fatty  agaiust  the  centre-table." — Page  102. 


AN  "AWFUL  PLACE." 

—  ^ 

WE  have  never  visited  the  town  of  Madison,  In 
diana,  but  we  have  an  « awful"  curiosity  to  do  so, 
from  the  «  awful"  fact  that  we  have  never  heard  the 
place  mentioned,  without  the  "awful"  accompaniment 
of  this  adjective  !  Madison  is  an  "  awful  place  for  re 
vivals  !"  an  «  awful  place  for  Mesmerism!"  an  «<  aw 
ful  place  for  Mrs.  Nichols'  poems  !"  an  «  awful  place 
for  politics !"  and  the  following  story  will  prove  that 
it  was,  particularly,  an  «  awful  place  for  Jackson  !" 

It  was  during  the  weak  struggle,  made  to  oppose 
General  Jackson's  re-election  to  the  Presidency,  that, 
during  his  western  round,  it  became  known  that  he 
would  "  stop  at  Madison !"  There  was  an  "  awful 
time,"  of  course,  but  it  happens,  providentially,  that 
in  all  awful  times  some  awful  genius  or  other  arises  to 
assume  their  direction,  witness  Cromwell,  Napoleon, 
Washington,  Marcy,  &c.  &c.  Now,  the  directing 
spirit  called  forth  to  ride  to  glory  on  the  neck  of  thi 
emergency,  was  a  certain  Col.  Dash,  of  the  «  Madi 
sonian  (not  Macedonian)  Phalanx,"  and  wrapt  as  he 
was,  in  zeal  and  the  "  Phalanx"  uniform,  no  one 
thought  of  opposing  his  arrangements. 

The  general  was  to  arrive  by  steamboat,  and  anx 
iously  had  the  whole  town,  hour  after  hour,  listened 

103 


104  AN    AWFUL    PLACE. 

for  the  gun,  which,  placed  under  the  directions  of  Col. 
Dash  himself,  was  to  summon  "the  citizens  to  the  land 
ing.  It  was  during  a  "  bad  spell  of  weather,"  and, 
moreover,  as  the  day  wore  on,  more  rain  fell.  The 
crowd  dispersed,  and,  finally,  night  falling,  the  colonel 
himself  retired  from  the  mill-stone  on  which  he  had 
taken  his  stand,  in  order  to  keep  out  of  the  mud, 
and  joined  the  amusements  of  a  neighbouring  ten-pin 
alley.  Games  were  played/and  "peach"  and  "  old 
rye"  had  suffered  "some,"  of  course,  and  the  colonel, 
his  "  Phalanx"  coat  and  hat  hanging  against  the  wall, 
was  just  exulting  in  a  "  spare,"  when  word  came  that 
the  boat  was  in  sight,  and  forth  all  rushed.  It  was 
quite  dark,  and  still  drizzling  ;  the  gun  wouldn't  «  go 
off,"  of  course,  so,  the  town  being  built  on  three  eleva 
tions,  from  the  highest  of  which  the  landing  is  not  visi 
ble,  a  messenger  was  despatched  to  spread  the  news, 
and  every  thing  was  ready  for  a  "  hurrah  for  Jackson," 
as  soon  as  the  boat  should  touch. 

The  boat  did  touch  ;  there  was  a  bonfire  in  the  mud, 
smoking  vigorously,  by  the  cheering  uncertainty  of 
which,  the  planks  were  shoved  ashore,  and  Col.  Dash, 
with  the  rest  of  theMacedo — beg  pardon,  Madisonians, 
rushed  on  board.  There  was  «  The  Gmeral,"  sure 
enough,  standing  right  in  the  middle  of  the  cabin,  his 
hat  off,  and  his  grizzly  poll,  with  every  inclination  of 
the  head  brushing  off  swarms  of  flies — the  boat  a  "light 
draught" — from  the  ceiling.  The  colonel  introduced 
himself, — the  colonel  « shook  hands  ;"  the  colonel 
introduced  the  Phalanx,  individually, — the  Phalanx, 
individually,  shook  hands ;  the  colonel  spoke, — the 
general  repjied;  the  enthusiasm  was  tremendous, 
when,  suddenly,  the  bell  rang,  and,  to  the  consterna- 


AN    AWFUL    PLACE.  105 

tion  of  the  entire  "  Madisonian  Phalanx,"  it  was  an 
nounced  that  the  boat,  having  put  out  some  freight, 
was  going  right  on,  and,  moreover,  that  the  general 
did  not  intend  to  land  ! 

"  What !  not  see  Madison,  gineral  ?" 

«  Not  see  Madison  /"  exclaimed  the  Phalanx! 

The  «  gineral"  was  distinctly  given  to  understand,' 
that  if  he  didn't  see  Madison,  Madison  would,  incon 
tinently,  precipitate  itself  from  its  three  several  plat 
forms  into  the  river  and  disappear,  for  ever,  from  the 
face  of  Indiana  ;  to  avoid  which  sad  calamity,  and  the 
captain  consenting  to  wait,  the  «  gineral"  did,  forth 
with,  shielded  by  an  umbrella,  and  conducted  by  the 
colonel,  descend  the  steps,  slide  along  the  lower  deck, 
venture  upon  the  planks,  and,  finally,  step  ashore,  up 
to  his  knees,  upon  the  soil  that  adored  him  ! 

The  prospect  here,  was  certainly  gratifying ;  on  one 
side,  the  ten-pin  alley  was  brilliantly  illuminated,  and 
the  proprietor  of  it,  moreover,  stood  in  the  door-way, 
out  of  the  wet,  discharging  a  pistol.  On  the  other  side 
was  the  smoke  of  the  bonfire,  and,  right  in  front,  re 
flecting  the  flicker,  whenever  it  could,  stood  a  heap  of 
mill-stones,  towards  which  safer  eminence  the  general 
proceeded,  and  taking  in  at  a  coup  d'ceil  the  features 
of  the  scene,  declared  Madison  to  be,  "  really  a  very 
pretty  little  town !" 

"  Why,  gineral,"  cried  the  colonel,  "you  ain't  be* 
gun  to  see  Madison,  yet !" 

"  Ain't  begun  to  see  it!"  chorussed  the  Phalanx. 

The  general  was  now  given  to  understand,  that  he 

must  mount  two  banks  before  the  beauties  of  the  place 

could  at  all  strike  him,  arid,  furthermore,  that,  as  in 

wet  weather  vehicles  always  stuck  fast,  it  would  be 

U 


106  AN   AWFUL    PLACE. 

much  better  to  proceed  on  foot.  This  movement,  the 
general,  "  with  great  reluctance,"  was  compelled  to 
resist ;  and  so,  as,  by  this  time,  a  considerable  crowd 
of  stragglers  had  tumbled  themselves  down  the  hill,  the 
anxious  colonel  arranged  that  the  distinguished  visiter 
should  maintain  his  position  on  the  mill-stone,  and  that 
the  eager  throng,  after  an  individual  "  shake  hands," 
should  let  him  off! 

The  general  nerved  himself,  amid  a  loud  "  hurrah," 
and  the  crowd  "  came  on !"  but,  here,  a  sudden  diffi 
culty  presented  itself;  the  position  which  the  old  hero 
had  taken  was  defended,  on  all  sides  except  the  front, 
by  a  chevaux  defrise  of  lumber,  interspersed  by  an  oc 
casional  breastwork  of  barrels,  and,  consequently,  the 
retiring  and  advancing  shakers  were  walking  over  each 
other.  The  excitement  was  intense,  the  risk  of  a  fight 
imminent,  when  the  genius  of  the  colonel  again  flashed 
forth. 

"Stop!"  cried  he — there  was  a  stop — "General! 
this  ain't  a  going  to  do,  no  how  !  'Tention  Phalanx 
and  citizens  !  Back  out,  the  hull  of  ye,  from  the  mill 
stone  ;  form  a  ring  round  the  fire,  and  the  general  will 
walk  round  to  you  /" 

This  proposition  was  received  with  a  general  cheer ; 
the  crowd  plunged,  slid  and  staggered  towards  the  fa 
gots  ;  the  general  was  seized  by  the  arm,  dragged  aftei 
them,  and,  in  a  few  minutes,  after  not  more  than  two 
or  three  slips,  there  he  stood,  in  the  middle  of  the 
smoke,  "  surrounded  by  freemen  !"  as  the  colonel  elo 
quently  exclaimed,  at  the  same  time  giving  him  a  sixth 
shake,  by  way  of  showing  the  rest  how  to  do  it,  and 
then  taking  a  place  himself  in  the  ring. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  general's  entire  satis- 


AN   AWFUL   PLACE.  107 

faction  with  this  arrangement,  his  experience  among 
the  Creeks  and  Seminoles  having  made  him  quite  easy 
in  swamp  life.  He  approached  the  circle,  extended 
his  hand,  a  dozen  others  were  thrust  out  to  grasp  it, 
but  the  colonel  was  before  any  of  them,  and,  for  the 
seventh  time,  the  general  was  «  welcomed  to  Madison !" 
Round  went  the  visitor, — slip  and  shake, — "welcome 
to  Madison," — drizzle — slide.  Suddenly,  the  colonel 
shot  across  the  circle, — took  a  place, — the  revered  hand 
was  extended,  and  for  the  eighth  time,  and  still  more 
warmly  was  it  grasped  with  a  "  welcome 'to  Madison!" 
Another  fourth  of  the  circle  was  measured,  when  the 
colonel  again,  like  a  shooting  star,  flashed  across,  and 
for  the  ninth  time  the  general  was  met  by  his  grasp 
and  «  welcome."  The  general  stopped  short,  the  rain 
came  down  heavily,  and  a  sudden  whirl  of  smoke  en 
circled  him  in  its  strangling  embrace  ;  as  suddenly,  a 
flare  of  flame  showed  a  darker  tempest  gathered  round 
his  brow ;  he  «  broke"  for  the  boat,  the  colonel  at  his 
heels,  and  the  crowd  in  consternation, — he  reached 
the  deck  as  the  colonel  had  gained  the  middle  of  the 
plank, — "  Gineral,  ain't  Madison  rather  a  place?" 
bawled  the  latter. 

"Awful !  perfectly  awful,  by  the  Eternal !"  muttered 
the  former,  not  even  turning  at  the  cry  which  the  colo 
nel  gave,  as  the  end  of  the  plank  slipped,  letting  him 
souse  into  the  river. 

As  we  have  said,  we  have  an  awful  desire  to  visit 
Madison. 


THE  ELK  RUNNERS. 


THE  following  extraordinary  relation  is  literally  true. 
It  has  been  communicated  to  us  by  one  of  our  oldest 
and  most  respectable  citizens,  and  is  further  substan 
tiated  by  the  concurring  testimony  of  our  senior,  who 
knew  both  of  the  men  spoken  of,  and  has  never  heard 
the  story  doubted.  Major  John  Dougherty,  the  «  Ken- 
tuckian"  mentioned,  is  still  living,  in  Clay  county, 
Missouri,  which  he  has  represented  in  the  legislature, 
besides  having  filled  the  important  post  of  Indian 
agent.  He  was  famous  in  his  youth,  among  the  prairie 
and  mountain  men,  as  a  hunter  of  extraordinary  skill 
and  endurance.  We  should  like,  of  all  things,  to  hear 
his  own  statement  of  an  adventure  which  is,  certainly, 
among  the  most  marvellous  ever  heard  of  out  of  the 
pages  of  fiction — if,  indeed,  fiction  has  any  thing  to 
compare  with  it. 

In  the  year  1818,  the  Missouri  Fur  Company  had  a 
post  just  below  Council  Bluffs,  named  Fort  Lisa, 
after  the  gentleman  who  established  it.  There  was 
much  competition  in  the  trade  at  that  time,  and  it  was 
a  great  point  to  select  the  very  best  men  for  Runners. 

Mr.  Lisa  had  with  him  a  young  Kentuckian  named 
D.,  a  fine  daring  fellow,  with  a  frame  of  iron,  the  speed 
of  the  ostrich,  and  the  endurance  of  the  camel.  He 
108 


TEE   ELK   RUNNERS.  109 

* 

was  fortunate,  moreover,  in  the  retention  of  a  half-breed 
called  Mai  Bceuf,  who,  notwithstanding  his  name,  (bad 
beef,)  was  considered  of  hardly  less  merit  than  D., 
and  between  the  two  men,  consequently,  a  keen  rivalry 
existed.  D.  had  travelled,  on  foot,  from  the  Black 
bird  Hills  to  Fort  Lisa,  a  distance  of  ninety  miles,  in 
thirteen  hours !  Mai  Boeuf  also  boasted  some  astonish 
ing  feats  of  «  bottom,"  and  both  were  stationed  at  the 
fort,  daring  the  time  we  speak  of,  for  the  purpose  of 
providing  venison. 

One  evening,  in  July,  the  weather  extremely  warm, 
the  grass  high,  and  the  post  unfurnished  with  meat,  the 
two  men  were  playing  at  cards,  when  their  employer 
came  up,  reproached  them  with  their  negligence,  and 
ordered  them  to  start,  the  first  thing  in  the  morning, 
on  a  hunt.  Obedience  was  promised,  of  course,  but 
the  game  continued,  each  moment  growing  more  des 
perate,  the  spirit  of  rivalry  pervading  their  hearts  in 
every  thing,  till,  finally,  morning  broke,  as  the  half- 
breed  declared  himself  to  be  broken.  They  fell  asleep 
on  the  spot,  and  the  sun  was  well  up  when  Mr. 
L.,  informed  of  the  case,  again  approached, — in  no 
pleasant  humour,  it  may  be  supposed, — cursed,  sacre'd, 
and  carahoo'd,  until  the  delinquents,  fully  aroused,  and 
a  little  ashamed,  took  their  guns  and  started  for  Papil- 
lon  Creek,  on  the  edge  of  the  prairie,  about  five  miles 
off.  They  there  discovered  a  gang  of  elk,  when  the 
Kentuckian  suggested  a  plan  of  approach,  which  would 
enable  them  to  get  a  good  shot.  The  half-breed,  rank 
ling  at  his  companion's  triumph  the  night  previous, 
observed,  sulkily: 

"I  don't  kill  elk  with  my  gun,  but  with  my  knife." 
The  pluck  of  the  other  was  roused  in  a,n  instant, 


110  THE   ELK   RUNNERS. 

rightly  interpreting  the  vaunt  as  a  challenge  to  a  trial 
of  speed  and  bottom,  and  on  his  saying,  proudly,  that 
what  his  companion  could  do,  he  could  do  also,  both 
hung  their  guns  in  a  tree,  and,  approaching  the  band 
as  near  as  possible,  they  suddenly  raised  the  Indian 
yell,  which  has  a  most  paralyzing  effect  upon  the  ani 
mals. 

Off  the  creatures  went  across  a  low  prairie,  a  few 
miles  in  width,  leaving  their  pursuers  far  behind  ;  but 
steadily  the  latter  continued  their  pace,  nevertheless. 
They  reached  the  bluff — ascended  —  crossed — de 
scended, —  one  resolve  uppermost  in  their  minds, 
«  never  to  say  fail."  League  after  league  the  chase 
and  race  continued,  the  men  panting  like  hounds,  cool 
ing  their  mouths  in  crossing  an  occasional  «  branch," 
by  throwing  up  the  water  with  their  palms ;  but  still 
unpausing,  until,  approaching  Elk  Horn  river,  a  dis 
tance  of  twenty  miles,  by  mutual  agreement  they  took 
a  circuit  with  an  increase  of  speed,  got  ahead  of  the  elk 
and  actually  prevented  them  from  crossing.  Leagues 
and  leagues,  upon  a  new  track,  the  chase  continued,  the 
animals  by  this  time  so  exhausted  by  heat,  thirst,  and, 
above  all,  fright — for  the  hunters  had  incessantly  sent 
forth  their  yells,  in  this  case  asnmuch  a  scream  of  mu 
tual  defiance  as  an  artifice  of  the  chase — that  they 
scarcely  exceeded  their  pursuers  in  speed;  the  latter, 
foaming  and  maddened  with  excitement,  redoubled 
their  efforts,  until  the  elk,  reaching  a  prairie  pond,  or 
"  sink,"  the  hunters  at  their  heels,  plunged  despairingly 
in,  lay  down,  and  abandoned  themselves,  heedless  of 
all  else,  to  the  gratification  of  their  thirst.  The  frantic 
rivals,  knife  in  hand,  dashed  in  after  their  prey,  began 
the  work  of  slaughter,  pausing  not  till  they  had  butchered 


THE    ELK   RUNNERS.  Ill 

sixteen  elk,  dragged  them  from  the  water,  and  cut  up 
and  prepared  the  meet  for  transportation  to  the  fort, 
whither  they  had  to  return  for  horses. 

Had  the  race  ended  ?  No  !  for  victory  or  death  was 
the  inward  determination  ;  and,  as  yet,  neither  had 
given  way.  Off  dashed  again  the  indomitable  half- 
breed,  and,  at  his  side,  the  unyielding  Kentuckian. 
Ridge  and  hollow,  stream  and  timber,  (no  yelling 
now,)  in  desperate  silence,  were  left  behind.  The  sun 
was  sinking  ; — blind,  staggering,  on  they  went ; — they 
reached  the  fort — haggard,  wild,  and  voiceless.,  as 
from  the  fires  of  the  savage,  the  "  gauntlet"  of  fiends. 
A  crowd  gathered  round  the  exhausted  men,  who  had 
arrived  together,  and  now  lay  fainting,  still  side  and 
side,  a  long  time,  before  they  were  enabled,  by  signs 
and  whispers,  to  tell  that  they  had  run  down  sixteen  elk, 
and  yet  couldn't  say  which  was  the  best  man  ! 

This  feat  brought  upon  D.  an  affection  of  the  lungs, 
nor  did  he  recover  his  strength  for  several  years.  He  is 
still  alive — a  quiet  and  influential  citizen.  Mai  Bceuf 
became  very  dissipated,  and  died  in  a  short  time.  Our 
informant  tells  us,  that  he  has  made  an  examination 
of  the  country  forming  their  race  track,  himself,  and 
that  they,  without  exaggeration,  must  have  run  seventy- 
Jive  miles  between  the  hours  of  8  A.  M.,  and  7  p.  M. 
He  is  fond  of  reading  the  New  York  Spirit  of  the 
Times,  and  wishes  to  know  what  the  editor  thinks  of 
the  Barclay  and  Ellsworth  breed,  when  compared  with 
the  prairie  runners  of  the  West  ?  a  thousand  of  whose 
exploits  remain  untold,  as  matters  of  common  occur 
rence. 


"OLD  SOL"  IN  A  DELICATE  SITUATION. 


MOBILE,  Alabama,  is  still,  one  of  the  pleasantest,  as 
it  was,  at  one  time,  one  of  the  most  thriving  theatrical 
towns  of  the  whole  country.  Its  inhabitants  are  re 
nowned  for  gayety  and  hospitality  at  this  day,  but 
there  was  a  time  (1836-7)  when  these  agreeable  quali 
ties  of  character  developed  themselves  to  a  degree  little 
less  than  extravagant.  The  cotton  trade  was  great, 
the  city  extending,  «  bank  facilities"  abundant,  and  the 
handsome  New  Theatre,  managed  by  Messrs.  Ludlow 
and  Smith,  with  a  really  talented  and  expensive  com 
pany,  was  a  matter  of  paramount  interest  with  all. 

The  private  boxes,  on  either  side  of  the  stage,  had 
been  let  at  immense  prices,  for  the  season ;  and  the 
dashing  lessees  rivalled  each  other  in  furnishing  them. 
Carpets,  curtains,  pier-glasses,  mahogany  chairs,  and, 
above  all,  costly  side-boards,  stored  with  sparkling 
wines  and  all  that  could  add  to  the  natural  gusto  with 
which  the  drama  was  received. 

Now,  these  private  boxes  were,  of  course,  just  about 
the  most  splendid  things  in  «  all  creation ;"  but  they 
had  their  accompanying  evil.  The  champagne,  for 
instance,  was  not  always  rivalled  in  spirit  by  the  dia 
logue  of  the  scene,  and  a  lag  on  the  stage  was  imme 
diately  made  up  for  by  the  pop  of  a  cork!  Again. 


"OLD    SOL"    IN   A   DELICATE    SITUATION.          113 

growing  fastidious  in  the  exclusive  sovereignty  of  the 
proscenium,  the  entrance  of  any  actor  of  less  than 
acknowledged  stamp,  was  a  signal  for  drawing  the 
curtain  and  diverting  criticism  from  the  scene  to  the 
side-board  —  a  proceeding  equally  gratifying  to  the 
histrion,  and  to  the  less  exclusive  portion  of  the  au 
dience,  both  of  these  parties  being  compelled  to  hear 
the  remarks  which  were  indulged  in  behind  the  damask. 
They  were  great  times — those  private  box  times ; — 
crowded  houses,  smashing  benefits,  storms  of  applause, 
and  "heaps"  of  "  State  Bank"  paper! 

Manager  Sol  was  a  great  favourite,  of  course, — on 
the  stage,  by  his  humour  and  eccentricities,  and  about 
town,  by  his  suavity  and  prompt  business  habits  ;  but, 
as  is  always  the  case,  certain  dissatisfied  spirits — one 
or  two  from  among  the  private  box-ers — began  to 
whisper  that  «  Old  Sol  didn't  speak  the  words ;"  that 
he  "  took  liberties  with  the  author,"  &c. — the  most  pre 
posterous  idea  in  the  world,  for,  as  everybody  knows, 
if  there  is  a  circumspect  being  in  existence,  it  is  your 
«  great  favourite,"  especially  if  he  be  a  low  comedian, 
• — this  class,  above  all,  speaking  "no  more  than  is  set 
down  for  them."  Sol  went  on,  keeping  the  million  in 
a  roar,  and  the  half-dozen  in  a  fever,  when  one  night 
he  appeared  as  Sir  Mark  Chase,  in  Ji  Roland  for  an 
Oliver.  Now,  Sir  Mark  is  a  stentorian,  rough  old 
country  gentleman,  and,  driven  out  of  his  wits  by  the 
apparently  equivocal  proceedings  of  the  two  sets  of 
lovers,  who  are  obliged  to  resort  to  all  sorts  of  expe 
dients,  he  cries  out, 

«  She's  mad ;  they're  all  mad  ;  my  whole  family  is 
mad,  and  damn  me  but  I  believe  I  shall  soon  be  in  the 
family  way  /" 

8 


114          "OLD    SOL"    IN   A   DELICATE    SITUATION. 

A  tolerably  broad  joke,  but  one  which  has  been  in 
variably  received  by  the  audience,  given  as  it  is,  on 
all  occasions,  by  a  "  great  favourite."  Sol  uttered  the 
speech  with  uproarious  effect,  when  a  drawing  of  the  pri 
vate  box  curtains,  and  a  fierce  popping  of  corks,  gave 
intimation,  not  to  be  mistaken,  that  his  "  liberties"  were 
undergoing  critical  discussion. 

The  next  day,  certain  serious-looking  squads  might 
have  been  noticed  about  town — on  the  post-office 
corner,  in  the  popular  bar-rooms,  &c. ;  and,  by  and  by, 
there  were  divers  hints  passed  from  one  to  another, 
among  the  more  excitable  citizens,  that  «  Old  Sol  was 
going  to  get  goss,  sure."  In  the  evening,  the  house 
was  crowded,  sure  enough ;  everybody  going  from  a 
vague  idea  that  something  was  to  « come  off,"  but 
what  it  was  to  be  would  have  puzzled  them  to  guess. 
The  chief  flutter  was  about  the  private  box,  P.  S.,  and 
now,  after  the  «  first  music,"  and  just  before  the  curtain 
was  to  rise,  the  thunder  cloud  appeared  above  the 
horizon,  in  the  shape  of  a  naturally,  jolly,  red-faced, 
rotund  citizen,  but  one  whose  more  companionable  traits 
seemed  now  to  be  entirely  overcast  by  the  colder  sha 
dows  of  harsh  duty.  No  sooner  had  he  appeared  than, 
as  if  it  was  the  preconcerted  signal,  a  score  of  voices 
called  out  for  «  Sol  Smith !"  "Old  Sol!"  "Smith!" 
«  manager!"  &c.  The  great  body  of  the  audience 
cared  little  about  the  movement,  but  any  thing  by  way 
of  a  lark,  and  so  there  was  shortly  a  general  cry  for 
"  Old  Sol,"  and  Old  Sol  appeared,  looking  "just  as 
innocent !" 

"  What  is  your  will,  ladies  and  gentlemen  ?"  There 
was  a  sudden  pause,  and  ev^ry  one  in  the  house  fixed 
their  eyes  on  the  severe  little  man  in  the  box,  who  gave 


"OLD    SOL"    IN   A   DELICATE    SITUATION.  115 

a  good  loud  "hem  !"  and  glanced  once  or  twice  back 
at  the  side  board,  and  finally  commenced : 

«  Mr.  Smith" *z^^ **$***& 

"Mr. "  promptly  responded  the  manager. 

"  Mr.  Smith,"  said  Mr. ,  and  he  didn't  look 

half  so  confidently  as  he  had  done,  for  it  was  a  debut, 
"  the  Mobile  folks  are  not  so  particular  to  talk  about, 
but  there  are  some  things  that  they  consider  a  little  too 
fat,  any  way  you  can  fix  it !" 

The  speaker  paused  and  looked  round  for  approba 
tion,  and  he  evidently  thought  that  he  had  done  that 
pretty  well,  "  any  how." 

"  You  would  appear  to  intimate  that  there  is  some 
complaint !"  observed  the  very  much  astonished  ma 
nager. 

"  Intimate  !  no,  sir,  not  exactly ;  we  expect  an  ex 
planation  with  regard  to  what  you  said  on  the  stage, 
last  night." 

«  What  did  I  say?"  inquired  Sol. 

"  Say!  why,  you  said  you  were " 

The  champion  of  pure  taste  suddenly  stuck,  and 
looked  round  the  house,  and  the  embarrassment  seemed 
to  spread  ;  and,  to  increase  it,  the  manager,  even  more 
innocently,  repeated  his  "  What  did  I  say  ?" 

"  You  know  very  well  what  you  said,  Sol  Smith,  and 
we  think  this  is  carrying  your  introductions  a  leetle  too 
far,  and  we  ain't  a  going  to  stand  it !" 

"  I  am  not  awrare,"  said  the  imperturbable  Sol,  "that 
I  introduced  into  my  part,  last  night,  any  thing  foreign 
to  the  author." 

"Oh!  well,  by  thunder!"  There  was  a  general 
expression  of  downright  astonishment  at  Mr.  Sol  Smith's 
cool  effrontery. 


116  "OLD    SOL"    IN   A   DELICATE    SITUATION. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Smith,  that  in  that  part 
last  night,  you  had  to  say  that  you  were  in " 

Again  the  florid,  and  now  somewhat  angry  questioner 
stuck  dead,  and  pursed  his  lips,  and  opened  and  shut 
his  fingers,  and  "hein'd"  emphatically,  and  then  blew 
his  nose  as  if  he  were  firing  a  pistol.  By  this  time,  the 
few  ladies  who  had  gathered,  unaware  of  what  was  to 
come,  had  left  the  theatre,  and  there  was  a  strong  dis 
position  to  make  the  most  of  the  fun. 

«  What  did  I  say  I  was  in  ?"  again  demanded  Smith. 

"  That  you  were  in  a  delicate  situation!"  roared  the 
Rhadamanthus  of  the  private  box ;  and  a  deafening 
yell  of  mirth-run-mad  almost  took  the  roof  off  the  house. 
It  was  sometime  before  Sol,  with  an  undisturbed  gra 
vity  of  face,  assured  the  now  dancing  gentleman  that, 
certainly,  he  had  not  so  expressed  himself,  but,  believ 
ing  that  he  knew  to  what  Mr. referred,  he  would 

get  the  book,  and  satisfy  him. 

"  Get  the  book  !  very  well — exactly — just  show  us 
that  in  the  book,  that's  all!"  and  a  hundred  other  voices 
now  chimed  in,  by  way  of  keeping  it  up,  "  Get  the 
book,  get  the  book,  Sol." 

The  manager  went  to  the  prompt  side,  got  the  farce 
of  Jl  Roland  for  an  Oliver ,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the 

excited  Mr. jumped  down  upon  the  stage  by  way 

of  having  no  "  wool"  pulled  over  his  eyes  ;  another 
roar  of  laughter  and  applause  rewarding  this  spirited 
movement. 

The  interest  now  became  « intense,"  as  the  manager 
turned  the  pages  over  and  over,  to  find  the  passage, 
and,  as  if  a  little  at  fault,  finally  got  down  on  one 
knee  before  the  footlights,  in  order  to  see  more  dis 
tinctly.  Mr. went  down  on  one  knee  also,  and 


"  OLD  SOL"  IN  A  DELICATE  SITUATION. 
"  I  can  lick  that  man,  by  thunder  !" — Page  117. 


117 

again  the  pages  were  turned  over,  and  opinion  began 
to  prevail  that  Sol  was   cornered,  when   he   quietly 
pointed  out  the  speech  to  his  censor.     The  florid  little 
man  could  not  believe  his  eyes;  he  read,  and  re-read, 
and,  sure  enough,  there  was  no  mistake  about  it,  till, 
finally,  terribly  cut  down,  he  was  obliged  to  say : 
«  Well,  gentlemen,  it  is  here,  by  gracious !" 
A  solitary  but  emphatic  hiss  now  saluted  his  ears: — 
killing  reward  of  his  chaste  intentions.    A  sky  rocket 
never  ris  faster. 

"  /  can  lick  that  man,  by  thunder  /"  roared  the  chafed 

and  disappointed  Mr. ,  and  up  and  down  he  went 

before  the  lights,  shaking  his  fist,  and  ready  to  spring 
at  either  pit  or  third  tier,  as  provocation  might  offer. 

The  laughing  and  screaming  was  incessant,  and  Mr. 

was  keeping  it  up,  swearing  that  he  intended  to  have 
decency  observed  in  the  theatre,  and  that  no  one  should 
take  "  d — d  liberties"  on  that  stage,  when  a  couple  of 
cooler  friends  were  obliged  to  make  their  debut,  also, 
from  the  side-box,  and  urge  him  to  retire.  This  he 
did  finally,  clambering  back  into  the  box,  and  the  sanc 
timonious  manager  assisting  to  "  boost  him"  with  the 
most  friendly  solicitude.  Pop  went  the  corks  imme 
diately;  Sol  "  rung  up,"  the  play  was  an  interesting 
one,  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  quick-tempered  but 
good-natured  champion  of  taste  acknowledged  that  it 
was  not  "Old  Sol"  alone  who  had  got  himself  into  a 
delicate  situation !  /7i  / 

I* 


THE  "GAGGING  SCHEME;"  OR,  WESTS 
GREAT  PICTURE. 


«  WE  must  think  of  a  gag !" 

"Yes,  there's  nothing  else,  we  must  think  of  a  gag!" 

"Decidedly,  gentlemen,  we  must  think  of  a  gag!" 

This  positive  unanimity  of  opinion  was  expressed  by 

a  small  party  in  a  small  town  in  the  "  Great  West," 

upon   the    close  of  a  theatrical  season,  which,   after 

"continued"  and  " unrivalled"  success,  had  closed, 

leaving  the  manager  with  but  one  alternative — namely, 

to  "slope" — which  he  availed  himself  of ; — and  the 

company  but  one  hope — a  "gag"  to  enable  them  to 

follow  him. 

"Now,  I  propose  an  'appeal,'  "said  a  heavy-voiced 
individual, — the  corners  of  his  collar  turned  very  far 
over  his  stock,  and  those  of  his  mouth  jerked  down 
wards,  as  if  endeavouring  to  recover  them ;  « I  pro 
pose  an  <  appeal  to  the  admirers  of  Shakspeare  !'  " 

"Wants  another  shy  at  Hamlet,"  remarked, 

half  aside,  a  gentleman  of  rather  slim  figure,  with  a 
turned-up  nose  and  a  low  comedy  twinkle,  as  he  sat 
back  in  his  chair,  enjoying  his  knee  and  a  chew  of  to 
bacco  ; — "For  my  part,  let's  have  something  that'll 
draw ; — I  go  in  for  a  gag  /" 
118 


THE    GAGGING    SCHEME.  119 

"Decidedly,"  chorussed  all  except  the  Shakspearian 
devotee,  «  it  must  be  a  gag  /" 

"Something  that'll  make  up  a  bill !" 

"Double  posters !" 

"Red  letters!" 

"Tjf  you  can  get  any  one  to  do  the  printing  /"  chimed 
in  a  voice,  quietly,  yet  so  audibly,  that  the  blood  of  the 
whole  assembly  fairly  crept.  It  came  from  a  strange- 
looking  creature,  who  lay  at  full  length,  yet  half-smo 
thered,  apparently,  in  an  immense  heap  of  blue  cotton 
check, — the  "sea-cloth,"  that  still  encumbered  the 
stage  of  the  shanty-looking  theatre,  from  the  perform 
ance  of  "  Paul  Jones,"  which,  with  a  "  real  ship"  and 
a  "naval  combat,"  had  formed  the  hope  of  the  closing 
night. 

"  Ah,  there  goes  Wormwood,  as  usual." 

«  Old  Overalls !" 

"  Canvas  splasher !" 

The  company  amused  themselves  for  some  time,  by 
applying  epithets  to  the  disturber  of  their  counsels,  the 
"  artist  of  the  theatre" — but  there  he  lay,  wallowing  in 
the  "  sea," — his  eyes  closed  like  a  whale  in  a  calm — 
the  resemblance  carried  even  further  by  an  occasional 
jet  of  tobacco-juice. 

"  Just  look  at  him — he's  safe  enough — he  need  only 
wash  his  face  to  walk  out  of  town  unrecognised!" 

There  was  very  little  exaggeration  in  this,  for  the 
"  artist"  was  about  the  rudest  specimen  of  that  diamond 
"  genius  in  the  rough"  that  could  well  be  produced. 
His  shaggy  hair  was  bound  up  in  a  soiled  handkerchief; 
his  face  was  smutted  abominably ;  dusty  looking  whis 
kers,  run  to  seed,  rendered  unnecessary  a  stock,  while 
an  "  executioner's  shirt,"  from  the  wardrobe,  and  can- 


120  THE    GAGGING    SCHEME;    OR, 

vas  "  overalls"  coated  with  paint  until  they  rivalled  in 
thickness,  and  hue,  also,  the  hide  of  a  rhinoceros,  com 
pleted  his  garb ; — stay,  let  there  be  added,  (likewise 
from  the  wardrobe,)  a  pair  of  very  old  and  discoloured 
supernumerary  boots. 

A  lively  carol  was  now  heard,  also  quick  steps  ad 
vancing  along  the  "box-lobby" — a  two-feet  dark  pass 
age,  by-the-by,  which  terminated  in  three  steps  leading 
down  to  the  stage — there  was  a  jostle  behind  the 
"  wings,"  a  deprecation  and  an  imprecation — the  for 
mer  addressed  to  a  companion,  the  latter  bestowed 
upon  the  "  property  man" — and  a  dashing  figure  ap 
peared  at  "  R.  H.,  1st  ent.,"  ushering  upon  the  boards 
a  rather  rowdy-looking  youth,  who  had  a  cigar  in  his 
mouth  and  his  hands  in  his  pocket. 

"  Excuse  the  dem'd  stage  attendants,  if  you  please, 
my  dear  fellow ;  I've  broken  every  shin  I've  got,  my 
self,  in  the  blawsted  place !  I  often  think  of  the  gar 
den  (Covent  Garden)  while  meeting  with  these  annoy 
ances.  I've  told  you  what  my  engagement  was  there, 
I  think ;  twelve  pounds  a  week,  dresser,  room  to  my 
self,  and.  three  months'  leave  of  absence — nearly  over, 
thank  God  !" 

The  speaker  was  chiefly  conspicuous  for  a  set  of  very 
bright  buttons,  a  moustache,  and  eyebrows  that  ex 
pressed  a  sort  of  stereotyped  surprise. 

"  Ah,  here  comes  <  Theatre  Royal !'  "  was  the  sneer 
ing  remark  of  the  General  Council. 

"  And  that  d — d  amateur  fool,  Wimple,"  contemptu 
ously  added  the  tragedian,  with  the  collar  heretofore 
described. 

"Wimple,"   bawled  half  a  dozen  voices,  "come 


WEST'S    GREAT   PICTURE.  121 

here — you're  just  the  fellow ; — got  a  cigar  ? — thank 
you ! — thank  you !" 

A  dozen  remarkably  mild  «  Principes"  quickly  dis 
appeared  from  the  crown  of  Mr.  Wimple's  hat;  he  dealt 
in  the  article,  however,  as  well  as  in  confectionery, 
Brandreth's  pills,  penknives,  lottery  tickets,  soda  wa 
ter,  &c.,  &c.  He  was  the  « crack"  amateur  of  the 
place,  dramatic  critic,  and,  above  all,  had  played  him 
self," — Jaffier,  to  a  travelling  «  phenomenon's"  Belvi- 
dera ;  he  consequently  was  "  up"  in  all  theatrical  mat 
ters,  and  everybody's  confidant ; — a  distinction  as 
gratifying  to  his  self-esteem  as  ruinous  to  his  cigar 
stock. 

"Wimple,"  said  the  low  comedian,  with  a  more 
insinuating  twinkle  than  ever,  "  you  must  help  us  out 
of  this  scrape,  by  thunder!  here  we  are,  a  lot  of  poor 
devils " 

"Mr.  Wimple  will  understand,"  said  the  tragedian, 
interrupting  his  less  dignified  companion,  at  the  same 
time  drawing  down  the  corners  of  his  mouth  and  thro  wing 
his  head  back — "  that  the  present  dilemma  in  which  1 
find  myself,  is  the  result  of  a  too  self-sacrificing  devo 
tion  to  the  drama  as  it  should  be,  and  a  too  glaring  lack 
of  appreciation  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Wimple's  fellow- 
citizens! — /  make  no  appeal,  save  to  that  self-respect 
which  should  teach  a  reverence  for  the  immortal  bard, 
and — and — a  corresponding  turn-out  on  the  benefit  of 
his  representative !" 

The  buttoned-up  companion  of  Mr.  Wimple,  during 
this  address,  had  executed  divers  graceful  roulades, 
tapped  his  boot,  &c.,  and  at  the  conclusion  observed, 
with  an  air  of  indifference,  that  of  course  "Mr.  Wimple 
understood  his  position ! — a  man  who,  as  a  vocalist, 
V 


122  THE    GAGGING    SCHEME;    OR, 

had  sustained  himself  against  odds  in  London  , — who 
had  received  twelve  pounds  a  week,  and  had  only  to 
return  to  receive  increased  terms,  &c.,  &c." 

There  was  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  others  to  assert, 
suddenly,  a  share  of  importance,  when  the  voice  from 
the  "  sea-cloth"  was  again  heard  : 

"  Wimple,  these  fellows  owe  four  weeks  board  and 
their  bar  bills  ;  the  landlord  has  got  their  trunks ;  they 
haven't  a  picayune  left,  nor  invention  enough  to  get 
up  a  "  gag"  to  procure  one,  and  they'll  be  obliged  to 
you  for  your  « valuable  aid,'  that's  .the  whole  matter." 
The  speaker  turned  over,  amid  a  volley  of  epithets, 
threw  out  another  amber  jet,  and  shut  his  eyes 
again. 

Mr.  Wimple  couldn't  advise,  really,  the  season  was 
so  completely  « run  into  the  ground ;"  besides,  the 
fashionables  were  all  running  after  Elder  Slack,  who 
had  come  out  against  the  theatre — even  the  amateurs 
had  backed  out  for  the  present.  All  knew  what  he 
(Mr.  Wimple)  had  «  done  for  the  profession,"  but  be 
yond  sending  them  up  some  cigars  and  a  couple  of 
packs  of  playing-cards,  he  could  think  of  no  scheme. 
It  was  a  clear  case,  the  *«  dog  was  dead ;"  not  a  span 
gle-glimmer  of  hope; — "lamps  down," — a  "dark 
stage," — "  enter  Egbert,  musing!" 

At  this  crisis,  there  entered,  by  the  back-door,  an 
extremely  shabby,  rather  elderly,  and  very  indignant 
individual,  with  a  »ewspaper  in  his  hand  ; — a  flushed 
face  and  suppressed  hiccup  added  impressiveness  to  his 
manner. 

"  Gentlemen — I — am  not  the  leading  actor  of — this 
company ;  /  have  not  had — pieces  done  for  me  to  the 
exclusion  of — I  will  say — equally  clever  men." — The 


123 

corners  of  the  tragedian's  mouth  indicated  that  these 
innuendoes  were  directed  towards  him.  The  last  comer 
went  on  :  « /  don't  assume  to  myself  all  the  Shak- 
spearian  dig — dignity  of  the  comp — ny ;  but  I  do  say — 
I  say  I  do  say,  gentlemen,  that  the  author  of  this  attack" 
— unfolding  the  paper — «  is  an  irreverend  libeller,  and, 
Slack  or  no  Slack,  gentlemen, — Slack  or  no  Slack,  I 
repeat  it,  Mr.  Wimple, — before  I  leave  this  town — he 
shall  hear  from  me !" 

The  indignant  speaker  looked  as  if  his  purpose  must 
necessarily  be  an  instant  one,  though  his  probable  stay, 
as  one  of  the  «  can't  get  away  club"  was  likely  to 
afford  him  sufficient  time  for  action.  Without  allowing 
himself  to  be  influenced  by  even  the  cooling  formality 
of  taking  a  seat,  he  merely  turned  himself  so  as  to  throw 
a  full  light  upon  the  paper,  and  read  as  follows : 

«  PAINTING  v.  PLAY-ACTING. 

«  To  the  Editor  of  the  Skinville  Disseminator : 

"Dear  Sir, — Be  so  kind  as  to  announce,  in  your 
valuable  and  truly  Christian  journal,  that  West's  great 
picture  of  DEATH  ON  THE  PALE  HORSE  will  shortly  be 
exhibited  in  our  town ;  a  letter  from  brother  Tick,  re 
commending  the  worthy  and  pious  proprietor  of  the 
painting,  having  informed  me  of  that  fact.  Let  me 
congratulate  our  citizens  upon  the  opportunity  thus 
offered  to  them,  of  studying  this  sacred  illustration, 
rather  than  the  abominations  of  the  play-house ; — the  » 
divine  efforts  of  true  piety  rather  than  the  artful  ensnar- 
ings  of  ignorance,  vice,  and  profligacy ; — the  features 
of  the  King  of  Terrors  himself  on  his  ghastly  steed, 


124  THE    GAGGING    SCHEME;    OR, 

rather  than  the  painted  cheeks  of  sin,  mounted  on  the 
devil's  hobby-horse. 

'.   •        "  Humbly  yours, 

«  PERSIMMON  SLACK. 

"  P.  S.  This  great  original  painting  is  the  sole  work 
on  that  subject,  by  West,  in  the  country.  It  can  only 
remain  a  few  days.  P.  S." 

"There!"  cried  the  "heavy  man,"  as  he  finished 
reading,  "  thank  God  /  wasn't  born  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  though  some  of  my  acquaintances  include 
themselves  among  its  ornaments!"  and  again  the 
«  Ghost"  cast  a  scornful  glance  towards  the  Hamlet. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  indignation  expressed  on 
all  sides,  and  another  round  of  cigars  from  Mr.  Wim 
ple  ;  in  the  mean  time,  the  "  artist"  had  risen  from  his 
«  sea-cloth,"  looked  over  the  newspaper,  and  merely 
remarking,  that  he  had  thought  of  a  "gag,"  himself, 
which  would  bring  them  through,  mounted  a  ladder, 
and  disappeared.  The  histrions,  likewise,  may  be  lost 
sight  of  for  a  short  time ;  guessing,  as  the  reader  well 
may,  at  their  employment — which  was  an  indulgence 
in  high  scorn  at  the  bigotry  and  intolerance  of  the  age 
• — an  active  circulation  of  the  sympathizing  Wimple's 
cigar-box,  and  an  endless  suggestion  of  highly  inge 
nious  and  impractible  "gags." 


«  West's  great  painting"  had  arrived,  and  the  town 
of  Skinville  could  hardly  look  at  itself  in  the   glass 
without  giggling,  so  pleasantly  was  it  titilated  by  ex 
pectation.     A  panoramic  view  of  the  city  of  something 
ad  actually  been  exhibited  in  the  town  some  years 


WEST'S    GREAT    PICTURE. 

before,  and  there  were  several  subscribers  to  the 
Weekly  (Pictorial)  Herald  in  the  place  ;  also,  a  resident 
portrait  painter,  who,  besides  the  likenesses  of  the  Rev. 
Persimmon  Slack  and  other  leading  people,  had  painted 
for  the  dining-room  at  the  hotel  a  view,  in  perspective, 
of  the  entire  length  of  «  Main  street,  Skinville,"  be 
ginning  with  very  large  houses  in  the  two  lower  cor 
ners  of  the  picture,  and  terminating  in  inconceivably 
small  ones  at  the  top  ;  the  arts,  it  will  be  seen,  there 
fore,  were  not  altogether  unappreciated  among  the 
Skmville  illuminati. 

« West's  great  painting"  had  arrived,  and  Elder 
Slack  had  at  once  offered  his  church  for  its  exhibition. 
Immense  posters,  printed  at  the  office  of  the  Dissemi 
nator,  announcing  «  DEATH  ON  THE  PALE  HORSE,  for  a 
few  days  only"  glared  from  the  corners,  while  th? 
columns  of  the  Disseminator  itself,  in  addition  to  a 
long  article  on  the  « Genius  of  West,  and  Modern 
Scriptural  Illustration,"  contained  an  enthusiastic  edi 
torial,  written  by  the  proprietor  of  the  painting,  and 
concluding  with  divers  doubly  enthusiastic  extracts  from 
popular  journals,  written  by  the  proprietor  also.  This 
gentleman  could  hardly  fail  of  making  an  impression 
in  Skinville.  He  was  a  young  man  of  quiet,  but  con 
fident,  manners  ;  he  assured  everybody  that  his  picture 
had  cost  three  thousand  guineas  in  London — that  the 
horse  alone  was  worth  the  money  ;  and  he  won  Elder 
Slack's  heart  instanter  by  gravely  assuring  him  that  his 
very  first  remark  had  proved  him  to  be  a  connoisseur. 
The  church  was  darkened  without  delay,  excepting 
one  window,  which  was  to  admit  the  light  upon  the 
picture  ;  a  railing  was  put  up  to  keep  off  the  vulgarly 
carious ;  Elder  Slack  consented  to  deliver  himself  a 


126  THE    GAGGING   SCHEME  ;    OR, 

short  lecture,  and  to  explain  the  design  of  the  great 
artist ;  the  door  was  opened  ;  the  proprietor  took  the 
money  ;  Skinville  took  its  seat ;  Elder  Slack  appeared 
on  the  platform  with  a  white  wand  ;  the  curtain  was 
drawn,  and  Death  on  the  Pale  Horse  threatened  the 
breathless  multitude. 

There  was  a  long  pause  of  motionless  admiration — 
broken  at  last  by  Elder  Slack,  who,  making  a  funnel 
of  a  sheet  of  foolscap,  and,  stepping  back  some  paces, 
took  a  spy  at  the  painting.  His  example  was  quickly 
followed,  and,  provision  having  been  made,  several 
quires  were  in  instant  requisition.  The  picture  was 
certainly  a  bold  effort.  Elder  Slack  correctly  de 
scribed  it  as  a  dashing  one !  In  fact,  it  looked  as  if 
some  of  the  dashes  had  been  applied  from  an  inconve 
nient  distance.  The  horse  was  very  white ;  his  eyes 
very  red  ;  his  mane  and  tail  very  wild  ;  while  the 
rider's  teeth  flashed  awfully,  and  his  train  of  demons 
were  perfectly  frightful — to  say  nothing  of  the  down 
right  immodesty  of  the  costumes. 

Elder  Slack  now  commenced  his  lecture.  The  sa 
cred  passage  which  had  inspired  the  artist,  was  no  less 
potent  with  the  Skinville  divine.  He  announced,  de 
nounced,  and  pronounced — taking  particular  care  to 
scathe  the  Thespians,  and  scorch  all  among  his  hearers 
who  had  been  seduced  by  them ;  next,  he  descanted 
upon  the  meaning,  and,  lastly,  upon  the  merits  of  the 
painting.  He  called  attention  to  the  grandeur  of  the 
proportions  ;  the  truth  of  the  drawing  ;  the  dashing 
style  of  the  coloring.  He  ventured  upon  "  light  and 
shade,"  "  foreshortening,"  "  foreground,"  "  back 
ground,"  and  "  perspective."  Gathering  confidence, 
he  pronounced  upon  "  general  effect,"  "  a  grand 


127 

whole,"  "  sublime  conceptions,"  and  even  named,  un 
hesitatingly,  Raphael  and  Correggio — allowing  them 
superiority  in  no  one  -respect,  even  in  their  much- 
vaunted  "  chiar  OESCUTO  /"  He  criticised  figure  after 
figure,  dwelling  particularly  upon  the  half-averted,  yet 
creepingly  expressive,  features  of  Malice,  which,  by- 
the-by,  was  really  well  painted,  and,  by  a  strange 
chance,  was  an  actual  likeness  of  Elder  Slack  himself! 
His  yellow  skin,  restless  eye,  and  ignoble  mouth, 
peered  out,  another  self  as  it  were,  for  the  recognition 
of  every  soul  in  the  church  but  the  speaker !  The 
afternoon  exhibition  closed  ;  the  extraordinary  resem 
blance  was  the  subject  of  universal,  but  quiet,  remark, 
and  at  night  the  church  was  again  thronged.  In  the 
mean  time,  however,  a  very  singular  change  had  come 
over  the  «  dream"  of  the  actors ;  they  had  paid  their 
bills  at  the  hotel,  redeemed  their  trunks,  and,  for  the 
evening  exhibition,  they  had  actually  paid  their  money, 
and  now  occupied  a  conspicuous  pew,  each  with  his 
sheet  of  foolscap ! 

Elder  Slack  was  again  eloquent — again  severe — again 
critical.  By  this  time  he  was  au  fait  in  the  matter, 
and  his  remarks  were  given  with  double  effect.  As  he 
approached  the  figure  of  Malice,  another  extraordinary 
effect  was  perceived.  By  some  inconceivable  en 
chantment  the  dark  shadows  had  re-arranged  themselves, 
and  now  represented  a  black  coat  and  pantaloons ;  in 
fact,  there  stood  the  Skinville  elder  himself,  even 
to  his  broadcloth,  large  as  life,  and  absolutely  «  twice 
as  natural!"  The  effect  was  electrical,  especially 
among  the  Thespians  ;  for  while  a  sort  of  tremour  crept 
round  the  spectators,  they  fairly  laughed  aloud.  The 
lecturer  paused — confusion  began  to  ensue,  when  a 


128  THE    GAGGING   SCHEME. 

tail  figure,  who  had  entered  a  few  moments  previously, 
arose  in  the  midst,  and,  with  a  strong  Yankee  twang, 
addressed  the  assembly : 

6i  My  good  friends,  I  don't  say  nuthin'  'ginst  your 
knowledge  of  picters ;  but  I'm  in  this  line  myself,  and 
J  rayther  guess  you?ve  got  on  the  wrong  horse  !  If 
this  here  is  West's  Great  Paintin',  mine  ain't,  that's 
all !" 

Need  the  story  go  on  ? — need  it  be  told  "  how"  this 
stranger  was  Mr. ,  the  well-known  Yankee  connois 
seur,  proprietor,  and  exhibitor,  of  West's  originals  ? — 
How,  during  the  confusion,  the  actors  had  rejoined 
their  ingenious  friend,  the  «  artist  of  the  Theatre,"  who, 
leaving  the  church- door  to  take  care  of  itself,  had  se 
cured  passages  for  the  party  in  the  very  coach  which 
had  brought  the  "  sure  enough"  Pale  Horse  man  to 
town  ?  Need  it  be  told  how  the  "  First  tragedian" 
and  the  "  Heavy  man"  forgot  their  jealousies,  as  the 
"  London  vocalist"  did  his  annoyances  in  a  hearty 
laugh,  while  «  Overalls"  explained  the  details  of  his 
stratagem  ? — How  Elder  Slack  received,  next  morning, 
a  grateful  letter  from  one  «  William  Shakspeare,"  thank 
ing  him  for  his  exertions  in  behalf  of  a  few  distressed 
disciples,  and  wishing  him  health  and  heart  to  contem 
plate  his  own  likeness  ?  Need  it  be  told  how,  finally, 
the  elder,  ,at  once  killed  as  a  critic,  declined  equally  as 
a  divinr,  each  heated  and  unchristian  expression  sug 
gesting  the  idea  of  malice,  and  the  common  sense  of 
Skinvihe  having  received  a  very  wonderful  enlighten 
ment  £  ^m  the  study  of  "West's  Great  Painting  ?" 


ESTABLISHING  THE  SCIENCE. 


THE  persecutions  of  the  Mesmerists  will  one  day 
make  a  curious  volume,  for  they  will  be  written,  of 
course.  The  disciples  of  Galileo,  Harvey,  Jenner,  &c., 
have  been  exalted  in  their  struggles  and  sufferings, 
and  those  of  Mesmer  even  more  brightly  will  shine  in 
martyrology.  Seriously,  the  trials  to  which  travelling 
Mesmerists  are  put  to,  are,  at  times,  humiliating  and 
painful  enough,  albeit  they  afford  infinite  sport  to  the 
unbelievers.  These  travelling  "Professors,"  or  many 
of  them,  are  charlatans,  thus  far,  that  they  pretend  to 
treat,  scientifically,  phenomena,  the  real  nature  of  which 
they  are  entirely  ignorant  of;  and  the  study  of  which 
they  are,  neither  by  education,  habit,  or  aim,  at  all 
fitted  for.  They  are  charlatans,  in  that  their  super 
ficial  knowledge  of  mere  effects  is  simply  made  available 
in  the  shape  of  exhibition ;  and  the  success  of  the  show 
being  their  first  object,  they  may  be  suspected,  per 
haps,  in  some  cases,  of  a  little  management.  At  the 
same  time,  the  vulgar  idea  of  general  collusion,  which 
prevails  among  those  who  will  not,  themselves,  experi 
ment,  would  be  ridiculous  ff  it  were  not  pitiable. 

De  Bonneville  had  been  electrifying  Detroit  by  his 
more  than  galvanic  effects  upon  the  muscles  of  scores 
of  his  impressibleSy  when  an  enormous  sized  Wolverine 

9  129 


130  ESTABLISHING    THE    SCIENCE. 

« trying  the  thing"  himself,  found  that  he  was  quite 
equal  to  the  professor,  in  setting  folks  to  sleep  and 
"  makin'  on  'em  cut  up"  afterwards,  and,  accordingly, 
in  the  furor  of  his  discovery,  off  he  went  into  the 
country  to  lecture  and  diffuse  the  new  light  which  had 
been  dispensed  to  him.  His  success  was  tremendous ; 
town  and  village  said  there  was  "  something  in  it," 
until  his  reputation,  as  in  other  cases,  begat  him  ene 
mies.  The  Wolverine  Mesmerizer,  after  astonishing  a 
"Hall"  full,  one  evening,  at  some  very  « promising 
town"  or  other,  and  which  bade  fair,  shortly,  tg  be 
quite  "  a  place,"  returned  to  the  tavern,  to  be  arrested 
in  the  bar-room  by  a  score  of  «  first  citizens,"  who  had 
then  and  there  congregated  "jest  to  test  the  humbug," 
any  how ! 

"Good  evening,  Perfesser,"  said  one.  "Won't you 
take  a  little  of  thefluid?"  said  another;  and  this  being 
an  evident  hit  in  the  way  of  a  joke,  the  «  anti-hum 
bugs"  proceeded  to  more  serious  business. 

«  Perfesser,"  said  the  principal  speaker,  a  giant  of  a 
fellow,  —  before  whose  proportions,  even  the  huge 
Magnetiser  looked  small.  "  Perfesser,"  said  he,  biting 
off  the  end  of  a  "plug,"  and  turning  it  over  in  his 
jaws  very  leisurely,  «  a  few  on  us,  here,  hev  jest  con 
cluded  to  hev  you  try  an  experiment,  appintin'  our 
selves  a  reg'lar  constituted  committee  to  report !" 

The  Professor  begged  to  appoint  a  more  proper  place 
and  hour,  &c.,  or,  according  to  the  apprehensions  of 
«the  crowd,"  evinced  the  expected  desire  to  make 
"  a  clean  back  out." 

"  Perfesser,"  resumed  the  «  big  dog,"  "  ef  we  on- 
dustand  right,  you  call  your  Mesmer  ism  a  <  re-mee-jil 
agent,'  which  means,  I  s'pose,  that  it  cures  things?" 


ESTABLISHING   THE    SCIENCE.  131 

The  disciple  of  science  referred  to  divers  cases  about 
town  in  which  he  had  been  successful,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  «  pulling  teeth"  operation  which  he  had  just 
concluded  his  lecture  with. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  challenger,  "you're  death  on  teeth, 
we  know,  but  ken  Mesmerism  come  the  re-mee-jil  over 
rheumatiz?" 

"Inflammatory  or  chronic?"  demanded  the  Pro 
fessor. 

"Wa'll,  stranger,  we  ain't  much  given  to  doc 
tor's  bottle  names,  but  we  reckon  it's  about  the  wust 
kind." 

The  Mesmerist  was  about  to  define  the  difference 
between  inflammatory  attacks  and  local  affections, 
when  he  was  interrupted  by  the  inquisitor,  who  ratner 
allowed  that  as  far  as  the  location  of  the  disorder  went, 
it  had  a  pre-emption  right  to  the  hull  crittur ;  and  that, 
furthermore,  it  was  jest  expected  of  him  that  he  should 
forthwith  visit  the  case,  and  bid  him  take  up  his  bed 
and  walk,  or  he  himself  would  be  escorted  out  of  town, 
astride  of  a  rail,  with  the  accompanying  ceremonies. 
This  was  a  dilemma,  either  horn  of  which  promised  a 
toss  to  his  reputation,  but  the  crowd  were  solemnly  in 
earnest ;  already  triumphing  in  his  detection,  they  began 
to  look  wolfish  at  him  and  wise  at  each  other,  so  that 
the  Wolverine  had  nothing  left  for  it  but  to  demand, 
boldly,  to  «  see  the  patient !"  We  had  better  give  the 
rest  of  the  story  as  it  was  related  to  a  humorous  friend 
of  ours,  by  the  disciple  of  Mesmer,  himself. 

"  Up  stars  I  went  with  'em,  mad  as  thunder,  I  tell 
you ;  first  at  being  thought  a  humbug,  and  next,  that 
my  individooal  share  of  the  American  eagle  should  be 
compelled  into  a  measure,  by  thunder !  I'd  a-gin  'em 


132  ESTABLISHING   THE    SCIENCE. 

a  fight,  if  it  hadn't  ben  for  the  science,  which  would  a 
suffered  any  how,  so  I  jest  said  to  myself,  let  'em  bring 
on  their  rheumatiz !  I  felt  as  if  I  could  a  mesmerized 
a  horse,  and  I  determined  whatever  the  case  might  be, 
I'd  make  it  squeal,  by  thunder ! 

"  <  Here  he  is,'  said  they,  and  in  we  all  bundled  into 
a  room,  gathering  round  a  bed,  with  me  shut  in  among 
'em,  and  the  cussed  big  onenlightened  heathen  that 
did  the  talking,  drawing  out  an  almighty  bowie-knife 
at  the  same  time.  « That's  your  man!'  said  he. 
Well,  there  lay  a  miserable-looking  critter,  with  his 
eyes  sot,  and  his  mouth  open, — and  his  jaws  got 
wider  and  wider,  as  he  saw  the  crowd  and  the  bowie 
knife,  I  tell  you  !  <  That's  the  idea !'  said  old  big 
Ingin. 

«  <  Rise  up  in  that  bed  !'  said  I,  and  I  tell  you  what, 
I  must  a  looked  at  him  dreadful,  for  up  he  jumped 
on  eend,  as  if  he'd  jest  got  a  streak  of  galvanic. 

"  «  Git  out  on  this  floor,'  said  I,  with  a  wuss  look, 
and  I  wish  I  may  be  shot  if  out  he  didn't  come,  look- 
in'  wild,  I  tell  ye  ! 

«  « Now  cut  dirt,  d — m  you  /'  screamed  I,  and  Jehu 
Gineral  Jackson  ! — if  he  didn't  make  a  straight  shirt- 
tail  for  the  door,  may  I  never  make  another  pass. 
After  him  I  went,  and  after  me  they  cum,  and  ^re- 
haps  there  wasn't  the  orfullest  stampede  down  three 
pair  of  stars  that  ever  occurred  in  Michigan  !  Down 
cut  old  rheumatiz,  through  the  bar-room ; — out  I  cut 
after  him  ; — over  went  the  stove  in  the  rush  after  both 
on  us.  I  chased  him  round  two  squars — in  the  snow 
at  that — then  headed  him  off,  and  chased  him  back  to 
hotel  agin,  where  he  landed  in  a  fine  sweat,  begged  for 
his  life,  and  said — he'd  give  up  the  property  !  Well,  I 


ESTABLISHING    THE    SCIENCE.  133 

wish  I  may  be  shot  if  he  wasn't  a  feller  that  they  were 
offerin'  a  reward  for  in  Buffalo  !  I  made  him  dress 
himself — cured  of  his  rheumatiz — run  it  right  out  of 
him  ;  delivered  him  up,  pocketed  the  reward,  and  es 
tablished  the  science,  by  thunder !" 


OLE  BULL  IN  THE  "SOLITUDE.5 


THE  enthusiastic  temperament  of  the  violinist,  Ole, 
may  be  easily  inferred  from  the  passionate  character  of 
his  musical  compositions  and  performances.  We  have 
only  to  add  that  his  mind  is  no  less  characterized  by 
simplicity  and  singleness  of  devotion.  He  is  almost 
boyish  in  his  enjoyments,  while  his  expression  of 
them  is  as  impulsive  as  the  breeze,  and  quite  as  re 
freshing. 

If  «  Boz,"  his  mental  city  still  befogged  with  Lon 
donism,  could  step  from  the  daily  swept  trottoir  of  the 
tourist,  and  dare  the  mud  of  the  "American  Bottom," 
opposite  St.  Louis,  to  gaze  through  the  "  Looking- 
Glass  Prairie"  windows,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at 
that  Ole  should  be  equally  eager. 

The  afternoon  succeeding  his  second  concert  in  St. 
Louis,  the  imposing  bust  of  the  Norseman,  clad  in  a 
particularly  light  and  elegant  summer  frock,  and 
mounted  on  a  spirited-looking  horse,  was  seen  to  dash 
off  from  the  « Planters',"  rattle  itself  down  Market 
street,  and  jerk  itself  up,  as  suddenly,  opposite  Philips' 
music  store.  Bull  speaks  English  very  well,  but  still 
there  is  something  of  "  the  Dutch"  about  it,  as  the  St. 
Louis  Nativists  would  say. 
134 


OLE  BULL  IN  THE  SOLITUDE.          135 

«  The  prharie,  Mistehr  Phillips — vat  vay  vas  I  go  to 
the  prharie  ?" 

Phillips  opened  his  quaint  eyes,  and  remarked, 
that  Mr.  Bull  certainly  did  not  think  of  riding  twenty 
miles  on  horseback,  within  a  few  hours  of  sunset, 
to  a  spot  devoid  of  habitation,  or  even  shelter,  with 
a  thundering  storm  gathering  in  the  west,  more 
over ! 

«  Yes,  I  moast  see  the  prharie,  and  just  now.  I 
have  play  two  nights  in  the  hot  room,  and  I  want  air. 
I  have  got  noting  but  gasp — all  here,"  touching  his 
broad  chest ;  "  I  must  see  the  prharie." 

"Well,  but,"  said  Phillips,  "  you'll  have  to  stay  out 
all  night !" 

"Veil,  I  shall  see  the  prharie  in  the  night." 
"  There's  a  devil  of  a  storm  coming  up  !" 
"I  shall  see  the  prharie  in  the  storm." 
«  But,  d — m  it,  you've  got  a  thin  coat  on  !" 
"  I  can  see  the  prharie  vitout  any  coat." 
In  short,  it  was  spiritually  an  obligate  movement  on 
the  part  of  the  musician — -prestissimo  "  at  that."     He 
could  not  wait  for  a  party  that  might  be  arranged  next 
day  ;  he  would  not  persuade  his  usual  compagnon  du 
voyage  to  stay  out  all  night ;  and  he  should  not  com 
pel  his  servant ;  the  fit  was  on  him,  and  the  "  solitude 
of  the  prairie"  he  was  determined  to  enjoy  "  solitary 
and  alone."     He  procured  a  vast  amount  of  unintelli 
gible  information,  which  he  said  "  yes"  to,  paragraph 
ically,   galloped    down  to  the  ferry-boat,  rode  twice 
round  the  engine  apartment  in  the  centre,  by  way  of 
getting  over  soon,  and  was  only  stopped  by  the  sud 
den  halt  of  his  steed,  as  his  eye  caught  a  sight  of 


136         OLE  BULL  IN  THE  SOLITUDE. 

the  piston-rod.  Day  waned ;  night  fell ;  the  storm 
held  its  revel  till  near  morning ;  the  sun  arose  beau 
tifully ;  10  o'clock  A.  M.  saw  the  streets  dry;  and 
about  meridian,  the  anxious  friends  of  the  musician 
were  made  happy  by  his  re-appearance, — drenched, 
dried,  and  bedraggled,  but  his  eye  filled  with  light, 
and  his  heart  with  music,  as  usual.  He  shall  tell  his 
adventure  himself: 

« Yes,  he  vas  fine  fellow,  dat  horse,  he  give  three 
kick  ven  he  leave  the  fehrry,  and  I  feel  just  like 
him,  I  give  three  kick  too  !  No,  I  did  not  know 
any  road,  but  everybody  tell  me  go  right  on,  and  I 
go.  Vehry  tick  mud  !  to  be  sure,  but  I  don't  mind 
mud  on  the  prharie.  I  ride  on,  and  after  good  while 
I  come  to  ever  so  many  roads,  and  I  vas  bother, 
but  I  tink  to  myself,  my  horse  has  fine  instink,  and 
let  him  go  ;  and  vat  I  find  but  he  tink  just  like  me — 
he  take  the  tickest  mud  too,  and  I  go  on  again  ;  and 
when  it  got  pretty  near  dark  I  come  out  on  the  prha 
rie — all  wide — beautiful — fine  grass — flower — so  many 
bird — all  sing — sing — sing — I  feel  light — as  if  I  could 
jump  up  and  stay  dere,  and  my  horse,  he  feel  just 
like  me  again ;  he  jump  up,  too,  and  den  he  sniff 
the  grass,  and  kick  up  vid  his  behind,  and  go  <  ne- 
he-he-he-e-e!'  Veil,  I  laugh  at  him  vherry  mootch, 
and  get  down  to  let  him  eat  dat  fine  grass,  while  I 
listen  to  all  de  sounds,  and  look  at  de  birds.  O, 
dere  vas  one  beautiful  little  kind — all  black,  vid  red 
head,  yellow  vings — and  I  vas  surprise  to  hear  so 
many  different  song.  Veil,  I  valk  avay,  and  vat  you 
tink  ? — if  dat  horse — fine  instink — he  run  right  after 
me,  and  rub  me  all  over; — just  as  if  he  like  me  for 


OLE  BULL.— Page.  137. 


OLE  BULL  IN  THE  SOLITUDE.         137 

give  him  de  grass !  and  he  look  me  right  in  de  face, 
and  den  he  go  <  he-he-he-e-e-e  J  again  !  Veil,  he 
'muse  me  vherry  mootch,  and  I  forget  dat  it  get  dark 
till  I  feel  de  rain,  and  den  I  say  to  my  horse,  <  now 
ve  go  home,'  and  I  ride  back — back — back — but  it 
get  quite  dark,  and  we  have  to  valk  to  keep  in  de 
mud.  Veil,  I  keep  in  de  mud,  for  I  say,  vhile  I 
keep  in  de  mud  ve're  all  right!  but  after  long  time 
I  no  feel  no  more  mud,  and  I  vas  fear  I  vas  lost. 
Oh,  yes,  I  vas  vherry  vet.  It  rain  all  de  time,  but 
de  clouds  vas  so  beautiful,  vid  de  lightning !  and  the 
thunder  roll  so  grand — and  my  horse — fine  instink — 
he  stop  to  look,  just  like  me  !  Oh,  yes,  I  vas  come 
to  little  house,  at  last,  vherry  nice  people  vid  noting 
to  eat,  but  vat  I  care,  my  horse  have  belly  full  of  fine 
grass,  and  lick  my  face  ven  I  put  him  in  de  shed; 
and  I  go  to  bed  up  funny  ladder  dat  'muse  me 
vherry  mootch,  too,  only  I  vake  up  all  stiff  in  de 
night,  for  my  chamber  have  vherry  good  vindow,  but 
no  glass  in  him,  so  I  valk  about  till  daylight,  ven  I 
have  joy  to  s.ee  de  sun  rise,  and  my  droll  horse  go 
<  he-he-he-e-e-e  /'  for  good  morning ! 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  de  prharie  look  better  in  fine 
veather,  but  I  say  to  myself,  if  'tis  beautiful  in  April, 
it  must  be  bright  in  May,  and  glorious  all  the  time  ! 
If  the  mud  vas  tick  the  grass  was  the  richer ;  if  de 
storm  not  come  to  make  me  vet,  I  vas  not  see  the 
lightning !  and  if  I  not  get  stiff  in  the  hut,  I  vas  lie 
awake  discontent  in  the  hotel ; — It  vas  beautiful  trip ! 
It  make  me  laugh  ven  I  tink  ;  and  that  rascal  horse, 
ask  him,  and  he  say,  <  he-he-he-e-e-e ,'  too  !" 

We  have  not  been  "  dressing  up"  this  story ;  it  is 
W 


138         OLE  BULL  IN  THE  SOLITUDE. 

the  musician's  own  :  we  only  wish  that  we  could  pre 
sent  his  mixture  of  simplicity  and  earnestness  while 
telling  it.  «  Boz"  may  find  »<  sermons  in  stones," 
but  it  is  very  clear  that  they  must  be  London  stones  ; 
— it  takes  an  Ole  not  a  Johnny  Bull  to  find  music  in 
fe  mud  of  the  "American  Bottom  !" 


HOW  OUR  FRIEND  B-'S   HAIR  WENT. 


"  Hyperion's  curls !  the  front  of  Jove;  himself!" 


OH,  those  curls !  not  your  fuzzy,  crispy,  questionable 
tortuosities,  indicative  of  either  a  mixed  breed,  or  a 
quarrelsome  temper,  but  a  raven  crop  of  flossed  mid' 
night,  (John  Neal  talks  of  flossed  sunshine,}  smothering 
in  its  own  luxuriance  ;  a  sea  of  curling  darkness,  roll 
ing  and  tossing  in  its  silent  play !  and  these  curls 

adorned  the  imperial  brows  of  our  friend  B .  We 

say  adorned,  for,  alas!  they  are  no  longer  adorning. 
They  have  fled  like  a  dream,  vanished  like  a  cloud; 
and  B is  as  bald  as  Caesar ! 

We  say  it — B is  as  bald  as  Caesar!  but  if  Caasar 

bared  his  baldness  half  as  majestically,  he  was  a  much 
better  looking  heathen  than  we  take  him  to  have  been. 

Why,  B 's  polished  outline  is  the  most  regal  thing 

we  know  of! — an  intellectual  porch,  over  which  looms, 
as  it  were,  the  mental  dome !  benevolence,  veneration^ 
firmness,  self-esteem — full,  "  c/iocA>full,"  and  beauti 
fully  balanced!  And  then  the  shiny  whiteness  of 
the  surface,  as  if  the  moral  glory  beaming  within, 
absolutely  shone  through  !  In  short,  a  head  of  Wash 
ington,  lit  up  for  a  4th  of  July  night,  is  "no  circum 
stance"  to  the  benign  front  of  our  friend  B . 

The  next  inquiry  is,  how  did  our  friend  B lose 

139 


140  HOW    OUR   FRIEND   B 's    HAIR   WENT. 

his  hair?  Thus!  Could  a  man  with  such  a  head  be 
other  than  a  Whig  ?  Certainly  not !  And,  the  most 
thorough-going  Whig  of  his  flourishing  city,  he  left  the 
banks  of  one  of  the  great  lakes,  as  a  delegate  to  the 
Baltimore  Convention,  last  May.  May  1844! — that 
glorious — but  everybody  has  read  the  papers. 

There  were  a  great  many  heads  in  Baltimore — wise 
heads,  and  long  heads,  and  fine  heads,  and  swelled 
heads,  but  there  was  no  head  to  compare  with  the  head 
of  the  Michigan  delegation !  he,  or  it,  were  ahead  of 
every  thing.  Joy !  hope !  triumph !  Whig  rule  !  And, 

with  every  increasing  round  of  rapture,  B 's  head 

became  more  resplendent,  till,  at  length,  came  the  grand 
procession.  B must  tell  the  rest  himself. 

«  Procession !  sixteen  leagues  long,  by  thunder !  My 
riads  of  freemen — throngs  of  beauty !  Whar  was  Michi 
gan  on  that  great  day  ?  In  the  midst  of  the  triumph, 
and  I  at  its  head,  hoss !  Balconies  bending ;  muslin 
and  cambric  fluttering !  Hurrah  for  Clay  !  Up  comes 

one  of  my  aids  ; — <  B ,  for  God's  sake,  don't  give 

the  word  to  cheer  any  more — boys  all  hoarse,  now.' 
Hoarse  !  here,  hold  my  hat — go  it  alone,  by  thunder, 
for  old  Michigan.  Whoo-rah—for — Clay,  and  the  La 
dies  !  WThew !  didn't  the  cambric  flutter  then  ? — couldn't 
stand  it !  Just  run  my  right  hand,  then  my  left,  through 
my  har,  lock  after  lock,  out  they  came,  gave'em  to  the 
winds — saw'em  mount  towards  the  balconies,  beauty 
striving  for'em !  then,  wasn't  Michigan  a  star !  Women 
screamed  and  men  hollowed — gals  snatched,  and  hand 
kerchiefs  fluttered,  and  on  I  went,  right  and  left — left 
and  right — feather  bed  in  the  air  a  fool  to  it !  front 
locks  and  side  curls,  side  curls  and  front  locks,  quicker 
and  thicker,  and  the  whole  d — d  universe  full  of  nothing 


HOW   OUR   FRIEND    B 's   HAIR   WENT.  141 

but  me  and  Michigan,  until  every  bar  was  gone,  and 
all  I  could  do  was  to  blow  kisses  untill  all  creation 
seemed  just  gathered  together  to  hug  me !  Well,  by 
this  time,  my  voice  had  followed  my  har,  when  up  we 
came  to  a  perfect  conflagration  of  beauty !  four  story 
double  house  covered  all  over  with  it,  and  one  splendid 
creature  cried  out,  <  Three  cheers  for  Michigan  /'  Whew, 
thunder !  hadn't  a  lock  on  my  head,  or  a  note  in  my 
voice !  Up  came  same  d — d  Aid,  and,  says  he,  <  Why 
don't  you  give  the  word  to  cheer?' — Couldn't  do  it- 
snatched  my  hat  from  him,  held  it  up  to  both  sides  of 
the  street — Take  my  hat! — they  understood  me — nine 
cheers — nine  more  from  Michigan — 

"  Stop  !  look  here,  by  thunder,  what'll  you  take  ? — so 
dry  I  can't  remember  the  rest  of  that  immortal  day, — - 
but  that's  the  way. I  lost  my  har!  A  leetle  bitters  in  it, 
if  you  please — thankee. 

«  Well,  I'd  now  got  to  hum  to  my  wife,  and  what 
on  airth  was  I  to  do  for  my  har!  Friend  suggested  a 
wig,  but  <  no,'  says  I,  <  I'll  go  the  naked  truth,  by 
thunder !  Old  woman's  Clay  all  over,  and  the  chief 
difficulty  will  be  to  make  her  believe  it's  me,  that's  all !' 
Well,  hum  I  got,  and  my  friend  stuck  close  all  the  way, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  swear  to  the  individual ;  and  first 
thing  I  did  was  to  appear  before  a  magistrate,  and 
cursed  if  he  knew  me !  So  my  friend  just  swore  to  me, 
reg'lar,  and  up  I  went  hum  with  the  papers.  Well,  in 
I  went,  with  my  hat  off,  so  as  to  give  her  the  full  front 
of  it  at  once  ;  and,  first,  she  kind  a  come  forward,  and 
then  she  kind  a  went  back ;  and  then  her  eyes  began 
openi-ng,  and  then  her  mouth  followed,  and  at  last  she 
bursted  out! — 

«  <  Why  B- ,  'taint  you  /'     Wei  ,  I  came  mighty 


142  HOW   OUR   FRIEND    B — 's    HAIR   WENT. 

nigh  a  burstin'  out  laughing,  myself,  but  I  kept  mum, 
hauled  out  the  affidavit,  and  she  read  it ;  and  what  be 
tween  surprise  and  affliction,  hanged  if  the  tears  didn't 
come  in  her  eyes,  and  then  the  joke  was  over.  « If 
you  don't  b'lieve  that,  wife,  here's  my  affidavit  to  back 
it ;'  I  just  took  her  in  my  arms  and  kissed  the  book,  I 
tell  you ! 

«  Fellows,  there's  nothing  like  a  touch  of  nature.  If 
she  stopped  a  going  on  forgiving  me  till  next  morning, 
I  wish  I  may  be  shot !" 


A  FANCY  BARKEEPER. 


OUR  friend,  Breeze,  is  the  roundest,  loudest,  hardest, 
happiest  host  among  the  host  of  hosts  with  whom  we 
are  acquainted !  He  keeps  the  « largest  kind"  of  a 
house,  the  loudest  sort  of  a  gong,  and  the  longest 
spread  of  a  table  !  Moreover,  his  servants  are  always 
"here,"  he,  himself,  is  always  there,  and  the  guest  who 
can't  be  happy  under  such  circumstances  had  better  be 
nowhere ! 

Breeze,  of  course,  keeps  a  bar,  and  before  he  under 
took  the  business  at  all,  having,  naturally,  consulted 
everybody  with  regard  to  his  prospects,  and  everybody 
having  told  him  that  they,  a  "  good  deal,  depended 
upon  circumstances !"  and  Breeze  understanding  that 
those  circumstances  included,  particularly,  a  "  good 
bar"  and  a  "  polite  barkeeper,"  after  laying  in  his 
«  liquors,"  set  about  making  inquiries  for  an  efficient 
toddy  dispenser. 

A  good-looking  man  he  must  be,  of  course;  a  man, 
moreover,  with  somewhat  of  taste  in  dress  as  well  as 
address  ;  a  man  of  pleasant  manners,  but,  most  distinct 
ly,  of  sufficient  discretion ;  for  even  pleasantry  may, 
occasionally,  be  "  run  into  the  ground."  A  trifling 
eccentricity  would  be  no  decided  objection,  nay  it 
might,  perhaps,  be  a  recommendation — the  other  ne 
cessary  conditions  holding  good,  for  a  man  may  be  none 

143 


144  A    FANCY   BARKEEPER. 

the  less  "  gentlemanly"  for  being  «  a  character,"  and 
being  thus  popularly  estimated  and  received,  is,  certain 
ly,  no  detriment  to  a  barkeeper  in  his  vocation.  The 
requisites,  then,  simply  stood  as  follows  :  A  good-look 
ing  man,  a  well-dressed  man,  an  agreeable  man,  a  dis 
creet  man,  an  eccentric  man — under  certain  restraints, 
in  short,  a  fancy  man — a  «  Fancy  Barkeeper!" 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  that  failures  and  disap 
pointments  were  encountered  by  our  friend  Breeze  in 
his  search,  and  that  only  by  strangely  concatenated 
circumstances,  was  this  highly  concentrated  individual 
at  length  discovered  !  He  was  discovered  though,  and 
Breeze  was  a  happy  and  prosperous  man,  in  his  own 
and  everybody  else's  estimation! — the  bar  was  popu 
lar,  the  mixtures  unexceptionable,  and  «  Twirl"  (we'll 
call  him  Twirl)  exhibited  a  rare  combination  of  the 
«  fancy"  elements !  In  the  matter  of  eccentricity  he 
was  perfect  to  a  charm ;  he  never  overdid  the  business, 
and  the  manner  of  it  was  the  most  unique  thing  in  the 
world  !  He  was  remarkably  quick  and  dapper ;  his 
inquiries  were  always  abbreviated — for  instance,  a  gin 
cocktail  was  "gin-cock?"  plain  brandy  was  "brandy 
p  ?"  and  then  there  was  "  brandy  wat-?"  "  brandy 
sug-?"  &c.,  &c.  ;  but  the  most  delightful  of  all  was  the 
flourish  which  accompanied  each  action !  He  was  clearly 
of  a  poetic  instead  of  a  mathematic  turn,  for  angles  or 
straight  lines  he  neither  thought  nor  moved  in ;  circles 
were  his  existence,  from  which  he  never  departed, 
farther  than  an  occasional  elipse  ;  the  man  was  a  sphere 
— each  act  had  its  axis ;  he  was  a  tireless  illustration 
of  the  laws  centrifugal,  and  centripetal,  as  well,  for 
however  he  might  fly  off,  there  was  a  sure  and  graceful 
return  to  the  centre  ;  such  a  thing  as  a  tangent  was 


A   FANCY    BARKEEPER.  145 

impossible,  and  his  system,  though  called  eccentric 
was  considered  as  sure  as  the  solar  one !  He  never 
put  a  tumbler  straight  down,  it  alighted  from  his  hand, 
after  a  series  of  gyrations,  with  a  graceful  curve.  He 
never  handed  a  "  gin-cock"  straight  out,  it  invariably 
«  cut  an  8"  before  it  was  submitted  ;  and  then  the  way 
in  which  half  dollars  were  spun  into  the  drawer,  and 
the  "  hey,  presto"  flourish,  with  which  the  "  change" 
was  returned,  was  a  matter  of  the  most  pleasing  enjoy 
ment  to  all !  It  was  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  half  a 
dozen  heavy-bottomed  tumblers  making  the  most  lively 
demonstrations  on  the  counter,  all  at  the  same  moment, 
— waltzing,  dos-a-dos-ing,  turning  partners,  every  thing 
out  indulging  in  a  direct  "chassez  forward  ;"  this  never 
happened  under  the  most  hurried  circumstances  ! 

Nor  was  this  « poetry  of  motion"  confined  to  the 
empty  ones  only ;  «  brandy  p's"  and  gin-tods  fre 
quently  went  through  the  same  evolutions,  without 
"  spilling  a  drop,"  and  even  corpulent  decanters  and 
waistless  champaign  glasses,  occasionally  joined  the 
«  mazy  round."  Breeze  was  a  happy  man  ;  he  even 
appeared  to  have  caught  something  of  the  circling  in 
fection,  for  instead  of  walking,  he  seemed  to  undulate  ! 
instead  of  going  straight  up-stairs,  we  have  seen  him 
often  ascending  in  a  sort  of  wavy  line,  as  if  fresh  from 
the  contemplation  of  Hogarth's  "line  of  beauty!"  As 
to  an  equilateral  triangle  or  zig-zag,  he  was  no  longer 
capable  of  such  a  vulgarity ! 

While  this  harmonious  arrangement  succeeded  thus 
admirably  in  the  bar,  things  were  rather  round-about, 
also,  in  the  dining-room,  but,  unfortunately,  not  with 
the  same  result — for  in  this  case,  somehow,  they 
wouldn't  "work  straight,"  and  Breeze  thought  it  would 

10 


146  A    FANCY    BARKEEPER. 

be  all  right  if  he  could  induce  Mr.  Twirl,  on  an  in 
creased  salary,  to  take  the  management  of  the  "  table 
fixens,"  and  circle  them  into  something  like  system. 
Mr.  Twirl  consented,  but  Mr.  Twirl  was,  after  all,  but 
mortal,  and  such  had  been  the  success  of  his  twirling, 
that  it  turned  his  head,  and  no  wonder ;  however,  he 
undertook  the  dining-room  bodies,  and  Breeze,  in  his 
ecstasy,  invited  a  few  of  his  particular  friends  to  wit 
ness  the  triumph  of  his  motions,  confident  that  a  plane- 
tarium  would  be  a  "fool  to  them." 

The  gong  b-r-r-ang-ang-wang-w-r-ranged  !  the  doors 
flew  open  with  a  slap-dash !  the  crowd  rushed  in, 
scuffle  —  shuffle !  hats  —  chairs  —  napkins  —  knives — 
"  good  as  you  are" — Hail  Columbia !  Breeze  stuck  to 
his  accustomed  plan  of  presiding  at  the  head  of  his 
own  table. 

Twirl  was  in  command,  every  man  was  at  his  post, 
and  now  then  for  "something  like  regularity!"  The 
signal  flourish  was  given,  and  as  many  arms  made  a 
circling  sweep  upon  as  many  covers,  which  instantly 
made  a  circling  ascension  into  the  air,  where  they  were 
flutteringly  arrested.  The  signal  to  turn  was  then 
given ;  but,  instead  of  all  wheeling  to  the  right,  every 
other  man,  somehow,  wheeled  to  the  left,  and  a  delicious 
crash  of  tin — cymbal-like  in  tone,  or  rather  more  so — 
over  the  heads  of  the  startled  guests,  was  the  conse 
quence!  This  was  awkward;  but  the  bodies  were 
awkward,  and  as  Mr.  Twirl  might  almost  be  regarded 
as  occupying  the  position  of  a  worker  in  chaos,  the 
collision  was  to  be  excused.  Round  came  the  soup, 
about  fluttered  the  plates,  pitchers  were  handled  with 
that  playful  motion  peculiar  to  the  use  of  the  watering- 


A   FANCY   BARKEEPER.  147 

pot ;  there  was  a  considerable  spilling  of  gravy,  and  a 
liberal  sprinkling  of  pants,  while  the  somewhat  un 
usually  elated  Mr.  Twirl,  over  an  immense  sirloin  of 
«  roast,"  went  through  the  broadsword  exercise  in  the 
most  formidable  manner !  The  affair  waxed  hotter  ! — 
circle,  sweep,  splash,  sprinkle — while,  occasionally, 
encroaching  upon  each  other's  orbits,  the  bodies  would 
jostle,  to  the  inevitable  destruction  of  "  wares,"  if  not 
to  their  own  entire  precipitation  from  the  system !  The 
dinner-table,  however,  in  America,  as  we  are  now  and 
then  reminded  by  to'-.ists,  is  more  the  scene  of  action 
than  of  observe 'On ;  and  though  Mr.  Breeze  was  much 
distracted  .u  nis  appetite,  he  had  still  strong  faith  in 
sci*3  .oe. 

The  first  rush  was  over,  and  wine  began  to  circulate, 
when  Mr.  Twirl,  more  strangely  elated  than  ever,  ab 
solutely  spun  himself  into  the  midst  of  his  favorite  accom 
plishment.  Such  a  ringing  and  rolling  of  bottles  and 
glasses  over  the  bare  mahogany  had  never  been  oVeamt 
of!  but,  contrary  to  use,  there  was  a  smash  here,  and  a 
crash  there,  and  Mr.  «  So-and-so's  compliments"  were 
hardly  ever  delivered  without  a  delivery  of  wine,  at  the 
same  time,  at  least  equal  to  three  times  the  capacity  of 
the  glass ;  and,  finally,  a  decanter  of  port,  spinning 
directly  into  Mr.  Breeze's  own  lap,  at  the  same  instant 
that  Mr.  Twirl  evinced  an  evident  desire  to  throw  a 
somerset  over  the  table,  led  the  amazed  landlord  to 
examine  more  particularly  the  state  of  his  regulator ! 
and,  must  we  say  it !  will  yon  central  orb  forgive  it  ? 
will  its  dependent  family  of  worlds  believe  it  ?  Mr. 
Twirl  was  wound  up,  used  up,  done  up,  in  short  he 
was  very  drunk ! 

With  an  oppressed  spirit,  Mr.  Breeze  directed  his 


148  A   FANCY   BARKEEPER. 

"patent  revolving"  prodigy  to  "go  straight  to  bed" 
as  if  in  any  disarrangement  of  his  motions  such  a  thing 
were  possible  !  He  was  finally  "  come  round,"  how 
ever,  and  placed  there,  but  whether  he  has  ever  arisen 
therefrom,  we  are  not  prepared  to  say,  as  that  was  the 
last  seen  or  known  of  the  "Fancy  Barkeeper." 


"MR.  NOBBLE!" 

BY   JOS.  M.  FIELD,  ESQ.,  OF   THE   ST.  LOUIS  "  REVEILLE." 

If  the  capital  sketch  subjoined  was  not  written  by  the  facetious 
M  Straws,"  alias  "  Everpoint,"  of  the  »« Picayune"  and 
"  Reveille,"  then,  lijce  Billy  Black,  we  "gives  it  up  !"  The 
"  Reveille"  is  one  of  the  best  daily  papers  west  of  the 
Alleghanies,  yet  its  editor  has  found  leisure  to  write  some 
most  amusing-  stories,  a  prize  comedy  or  two,  and  play  several 
profitable  engagements  at  the  theatres  of  the  southwest  within 
the  last  year !  We  hear  it  is  his  intention  to  give  the  world 
a  collection  of  his  miscellaneous  prize  writings  soon,  through 
the  medium  of  the  publishers  of  this  work;  it  should  and 
will,  doubtlessly,  command  an  immense  sale. 

"  MISTER  NOBBLE  !" 

Mr.  Nobble  was  venturing  very  carefully  along  an 
uncertain  staging,  which  afforded  an  equally  uncertain 
passage  from  a  ship  alongside  the  wharf,  to  a  vessel 
bound  from  a  port  "  'way  Down  East"  to  a  port  "  'way 
off  South  ;"  and  Mr.  Nobble,  at  the  moment  when  the 
shrill  and  imperative  summons  reached  his  ear,  was 
mentally  and  physically  contriving  how  he  should  pre 
vent  one  child's  tub,  one  ditto  clothes'  horse,  one  night 
lamp,  two  flat  irons,  a  dozen  of  oranges,  two  pounds  of 
sago,  a  box  of  Guava  jelly,  one  bottle  of  "  choice  old 
port,"  (not  to  be  shaken,}  and  himself— the  arrears  of  the 
family  requisitions  for  the  voyage — from  tumbling  over 
board1 

149 


150  "MR.  NOBBLE." 

"  Mister  Nobble  /" 

The  provident  and  peculiarly  placed  gentleman 
alluded  fl^r^as  at  this  moment  in  the  "  worst  place  ;" 
and  one  of  the  planks  "  waggling"  awfully,  and  his 
own  knees,  moreover,  assisting  the  "  disturbing  causes," 
some  two  hundred  most  deeply  interested  spectators, 
with  great  concern,  saw  Mr.  Nobble's  oranges,  like  a 
flock  of  sheep,  bound  one  after  the  other  into  the  water, 
attempting  to  arrest  which,  Mr.  Nobble  unfortunately 
released  the  tub  from  his  arm,  which  stooping  to  catch, 
Mr.  Nobble  unfortunately  entangled  his  legs  in  the 
"  horse,"  at  the  same  time  losing  his  hat  and  dropping 
the  flat  irons  on  his  toes  ; — crowning  this  succession  of 
disasters  by  falling  flat  on  his  face,  crushing  the  jelly 
and  smashing  the  port — certain  sailors,  in  their  anxiety 
to  pick  up  the  owner,  busily  kicking  his  remaining 
scatterings  overboard,  to  be  subsequently  secured  to 
their  own  profit. 

"Mr.  Nobble!" 

An  extremely  novel  and  striking  tableau  was  presented 
on  the  poop  of  the  outside  vessel,  having  scratched  both 
his  knees  through  his  pantaloons  in  his  desperate  haste 
to  rise  and  rescue  his  "  stores,"  had  finally  precipitated 
himself  over  the  rail  upon  the  deck,  where  he  now  stood 
before  a  very  pale  and  anxious,  though  stout-looking 
elderly  lady,  tightly  grasping  in  his  hand  the  neck  of 
the  port  bottle.  Going  into  details,  it  should  be  stated, 
that  the  lady  supported  on  her  knee  a  sodden-looking 
infant,  which  was  painting  its  face  with  a  stick  of 
molasses  candy,  while  a  very  wide-mouthed  urchin, 
who  had  just  "  put  his  eye  out,"  as  his  mother  insisted, 
against  a  "  belaying  pin,"  was  ingratiating  himself  in 


151 

the  favour  of  the  assembled  passengers  by  yelling  out 
all  sorts  of  unusual  murders  at  her  side.  An  Irish 
nurse,  who  contented  herself  with  standing  by  and  say 
ing,  grumly,  "  O,  it's  kilt  ye  are,  af  course  !"  completed 
the  picture. 

"  Mr.  Nobble,  it's  all  nonsense  !  I  can't  go  in  the  ship 
and  I  won't- — you're  welcome  to  save  my  life  but  shan't 
do  it  on  salt  water !  Run  ashore  again  for  a  doctor — 
his  eye's  out  I  know  it  is,  and  after  all  there's  no  hive 
syrup  neither.  O,  my  gracious,  if  they  aint  loosening 
the  sails ! — and  your  friends  to  go  and  put  a  sea  voyage 
in  your  head  when  he's  always  a  climbing  and  playing 
with  water  and  no  place  to  do  the  baby's  washing  with  a 
wasting  disease  too  that's  robbing  the  child  and  starving 
it  daily  as  you  can  see  by  its  cheeks  c  Mr.  Nobble !' " 

Mr.  Nobble  was  a  placid  man,  of  extremely  family 
demeanor,  and  he  listened  to  this  perfectly  clear,  though 
rapid  statement  of  circumstances,  with  the  air,  though 
by  no  means  the  indifference,  of  a  man  who  was  used  to 
it.  Mrs.  N.  was  an  invalid,  nervous — opposed  to  the 
voyage,  and,  albeit  he  himself  "  suffered  dreadfully," 
he  was  constitutionally  a  "family  man,"  arid  expected 
annoyances.  Forgetting  his  mishap,  he  was  about  to 
soothe  his  partner,  when  the  younger  Nobble  stopped 
his  bawling  to  kick  the  nurse  on  the  shins,  which  ope 
ration  he  followed  by  pitching  his  head  into  her  stomach 
and  fixing  his  teeth  into  her  leg. 

"JMr.  Nobble!" 

A  score  of  sailors  running  aft  with  a  hawser  scattered 
the  Nobbles,  and  as  the  vessel  swung  round,  her  bows 
into  the  stream,  the  numeroup  passengers  congratulated 
themselves  upon  a  comfortable  prospect  with  that  inte 
resting  family. 


152  "MR.  NOBBLE." 

"Mr.  Nobble!"  (very faintly.} 

The  present  summons  came  from  the  after-state-room 
of  the  gentlemen's  cabin,  for  Mr.  Nobble  had  been  too 
late  to  secure  berths  in  the  ladies'  division — much  to 
the  regret  of  the  feminine  gender  on  board.  The  night 
lamp  swung  with  great  regularity  from  the  centre  of  the 
battened  down  "  sky-light,"  as  the  ship  rolled  heavily ; 
there  was  a  dismal  creaking  and  grinding  of  her  timbers 
as  if  she  felt  rheumatic,  and  was  endeavouring  to  say 
so ;  while  ever  and  anon  came  a  hoarse  voice  above, 
followed  by  a  tramping  of  feet  and  a  sudden  fall  of  coils 
of  rope  upon  the  thin  poop  deck,  making  one  jump 
again ! 

"  Mr.  Nobble  /"  (very  sharply.} 

To  admit  light,  a  child's  chair  had  been  interposed 
between  the  door  and  Mrs.  N.'s  state-room,  which  chair 
was  now  undergoing  a  battering  attack,  from  and  on 
account  of  the  said  door,  with  each  roll  of  the  ship ;  a 
feminine  undergarment,  which  had  been  ingeniously 
secured  between  handle  and  latch  as  a  screen  from 
masculine  curiosity,  was  waving  triumphantly  with  every 
"  slam  ;"  a  fat  figure  in  shirt  and  pantaloons,  stretched 
on  the  dining-table,  with  his  feet,  braced  against  the 
main-mast,  snored  with  an  abrupt  snort  as  the  heavier 
rolls  recalled  him  occasionally  to  a  sort  of  consciousness, 
and,  finally,  with  the  third  "Mr.  JYb&ble,"  which 
sounded  for  all  the  world  like  the  clip  of  a  pair  of  scis 
sors,  a  very  yellow  face,  topped  by  a  red  handkerchief, 
was  raised  above  the  table,  and  Mr.  N.,  in  a  dressing 
gown,  advanced  anxiously  but  carefully  to  his  partner. 
"  Julia  ?"  moaned  inquiringly  Mr.  Nobble. 
"  Oh,  there  you  are,  at  last,  Mr.  Nobble,  with  my 


"MR.  NOBBLE."  153 

dying  words  ringing  in  your  ears  for  the  last  hour — all 
the  water  spilt,  and  no  more  in  the  wide  ocean  I  suppose, 
to  keep  one  from  choking — and  won't  stay  on  one's 
stomach  neither — without  strength  for  a  change  of 
clothes  and  two  children ! — Don't  tell  me  to  be  patient, 
with  a  wasting  disease,  and  the  door  slamming, — there 
by  yourself,  in  a  cool  public  cabin,  a-snoring  ! — Yes  it 
was  you,  Mr.  Nobble — I  know  your  snore  if  I  know 
any  thing  about  you — and  Johnny  calling  to  you,  too, 
ever  so  long,  to  keep  the  girl  from  rolling  out  of  the 
upper  berth  over  him  in  the  next  room  out  in  the  Gulf 
Stream  as  you  call  it,  and  no  faith  in  a  southern  climate 
— with  a  constant  croup  and  no  squills  if  it  was  taken 
this  minute ! — Mr.  Nobble,  are  you  snoring  again,  while 
I'm  talking  to  you  ? — Yes,  you  are,  I  say !  Eh  ?  the  fat 
gentleman  on  the  table !  I  knew  so, — and  exposed  to 
every  eye  with  my  knees  to  my  chin  to  keep  steady — 
there  goes  the  child ! — Gracious  goodness,  it'll  choke, 
and  the  stewardess  asleep,  too,  without  an  emetic  among 
the  passengers !— convulsions ! — Yes,  it  is! — convul 
sions  ! — don't  tell  me, — and  it  may  die  for  warm  water, 
for  all  you're  good  for — stewardess  ?  Don't  you  hear 
me  call  *  stewardess  ?'  Mr.  Nobble !  And  not  a  female 
to  feel  for  me  with  even  a  hot  towel.  Mr.  Nobble? 
Oh  yes,  he's  gone  to  light  a  fire  and  be  washed  over 
board,  I  suppose — Hus-s-s-s-h-h  my  darling — nobody 
come  yet !  good  heavens — it's  dying !  Mr.  fat  passen 
ger  ?  Mr.  gentleman  asleep'?  Oh,  that  door  again! — 
Mr.  Nobble  ? — And  not  a  short  gown  to  cover  myself — 
1  must  get  out — Hus-s-s-s-h-h,  then  my  darling, — Mister: 

Nobble? " 

Bv  this  time  the  captain  and  divers  passengers  had 


154  "MR.  NOBBLE." 

"turned  out" — the  fat  gentleman  sat  up  rubbing  the 
back  of  his  neck — an  elderly  lady  appeared  with  the 
stewardess  from  the  after-cabin,  and  finally  Mr.  Nobble 
himself  staggered  in  from  the  deck,  bearing  a  tub  of  hot 
water.  The  baby,  at  the  same  time,  was  brought  out 
into  the  light,  to  ease  their  minds,  by  relieving  it's 
stomach  of  a  square  inch  of  cold  potato,  which,  in  spite 
of  Mr.  Nobble's  protestations,  Mrs.  N.  knew  that  he 
must  have  given  it  at  dinner,  as  he  was  never  satisfied 
unless  he  was  stuffing  it,  and,  moreover,  knew  no  more 
about  children  than  a  child  unborn  did  about  first 
trousers ! 

"Mister  Nobble!" 

The  vessel,  "  going  out  light,"  yet  almost  scraping 
the  bottom  of  the  "  middle  channel,"  was  gliding  over 
the  fairy  waters  of  the  "great  Bahama,"  its  "three 
fathoms"  revealing,  as  through  a  tinted  haze,  marine 
plant,  shining  spar,  and,  ever  and  anon,  the  strangely 
shaped  and  shadowy  haunters  of  the  coral  reefs.  Sea 
and  sky  mingled  their  transparent  fluids,  till  the  tinted 
sails — filled,  not  forced,  by  the  gentle  breeze — seemed 
like  so  many  summer  clouds  wafting  while  shading  the 
happy  watchers  of  their  progress.  An  awning  partially 
screened  the  "  poop,"  in  the  shadow  of  which  various 
groups  beguiled  the  time.  Cards,  books,  anecdote ; — 
three  or  four  smokers  in  straw  hats,  with  sun-burned 
faces,  sat  in  the  yawl  slung  on  the  lee  quarter ;  the  fat 
passenger  snored  on  the  skylight ;  a  lean  ditto  hastened 
his  consumption  by  playing  on  a  flute  to  the  after-rail ; 
Master  Johnny  had  his  legs  through  the  ratlins,  and  the 
Irish  nurse,  her  first  day  on  deck,  was  endeavouring  to 
draw  the  baby  up  and  down  in  a  claret-box. 


Mr.  Nobble,  you're  not  agoing  to  leave  me  ? — Page  155. 


"MR.  NOBBLE."  155 

«  Mr.  Nobble!" 

Several  heads  appeared  struggling  up  the  steps  from 
the  lower  deck,  and  presently,  Mrs.  Nobble  securely 
braced  in  an  arm-chair  and  supported  by  the  captain, 
mate,  and  Mr.  N.,  was  placed  comfortably  against  the 
rnizen.  The  appearance  of  real,  heartfelt  satisfaction 
with  which  the  anxious  and  evidently  stomach-rinsed 
husband  superintended  this  operation,  contrasted  rather 
strangely  with  the  yet  bilious  aspect  of  the  wife. 

"Mr.  Nobble!  you're  not  agoing  to  leave  me  ?  Oh, 
take  me  down  again!  didn't  you  say  there  was  no 
motion — there !  don't  I  see  the  water  when  you  told 
me  we  were  on  the  bank  /  not  a  bit  of  land  to  be  seen 
and  two  horrid  weeks  with  constant  suffering  and  weak 
gruel.  Mercy  on  me,  where  are  we!  in  a  pea-green 
climate  as  I'm  a  sick  woman  and  there's  the  girl  a  stag 
gering  while  you  stand  here  and  care  no  more  for  the 
child  than  if  it  was  your  grand-uncle — there !  I  felt  the 
chair  go, — no  danger,  indeed,  as  if  I  was  a  spider  like 
the  sailors — gracious  goodness,  look  at  that  boy — you 
Johnny — Mr!  Nobble  !  if  his  legs  aint  through — and  all 
his  knees  out,  his  new  pair,  too,  to  go  ashore  in  and 
nobody  to  offer  to  save  him  from  being  drowned  with  a 
swimming  in  his  head — /knew  it!  right  on  his  head  in 
the  lady's  lap  and  both  their  brains  knocked  out  or  it's 
a  mercy.  Much  your  father  cares,  my  child — it's  all 
Mr.  Nobble's  fault,  Ma'm,  with  your  constant  climbing, 
and  a  wasting  disease,  Ma'm,  that  keeps  me  from  look 
ing  after  them  and  you  know  what  a  family  is — whaPs 
that !  Mr.  Nobble !  only  a  squall  indeed,  don't  they  say 
it'll  strike  us — Captain !  can't  we  go  the  otner  way  I  no 
I  won't  go  down,  nor  the  children  neither  to  be  swal- 


156  "MR.  NOBBLE." 

lowed  alive   and  there's  that  gentleman   asleep   and 

snoring  and — I  knew  it! " 

Mrs.  Nobble  had  made  a  poor  use  of  her  foreknow 
ledge,  for  at  this  instant  she  was  enveloped  in  the 
awning;  the  sails  were  let  go — uall  flying;"  a  mo 
ment's  whirlwind  was  succeeded  by  a  drenching  shower, 
and  Mr.  Nobble  explicitly  charged  with  his  wife's  death, 
(that  afflicted  lady  once  more  restored  to  her  state-room,) 
watched  her  patiently  till  she  slept,  and  meekly  pictured 
to  himself  the  probable  delights  of  a  winter  in  New 
Orleans 


HONEY  BUN.3 


"Mr.  Douglass,  you've  a  mighty  small  chance  of  legs,  there,  any  how  •* 

Judge  Douglass's  Story. 


THE  «  gentleman  from  Illinois"  is  not  the  only  gen 
tleman  whose  legs  have  led  him  into  embarrassment ! 
A  political  friend  of  ours,  equally  happy  in  his  man 
ners,  if  not  in  his  party,  among  the  Missouri  constitu 
ency,  found  himself,  while  canvassing  the  state  one 
summer  for  Congress,  in  even  a  more  peculiarly  per 
plexing  predicament  than  the  Illinois  judge. 

There  is  a  spot,  in  the  south-western  part  of  this 
state,  known  as  the  Fiery  Fork  of  Honey  Run — a  delicious 
locality,  no  douot,  as  the  run  of  "  honey"  is,  of  course, 
accompanied  by  a  corresponding  flow  of  "  milk,"  and 
a  mixture  of  milk  and  honey,  or,  at  any  rate,  honey 
and  «  Peach"  is  the  evidence  of  sublunary  content 
ment,  every  place  where  they  have  preaching  ! 

"  Honey  Run"  is  further  christianized  by  the  pre 
sence  of  an  extremely  hospitable  family,  whose  man 
sion,  comprising  one  apartment — neither  more  nor  less 
— is  renowned  /or  being  never  shut  against  the  travel 
ler,  and  so  our  friend  found  it  during  the  chill  morning 
air,  at  the  expense  of  a  rheumatism  in  his  shoulder — 
its  numerous  unaffected  cracks  and  spaces  clearly  show- 

157 


158  HONEY   RUN. 

ing  that  dropping  the  latch  was  a  useless  formality 
The  venerable  host  and  hostess,  in  their  one  apartment, 
usually  enjoy  the  society  of  two  sons,  four  daughters, 
sundry  dogs  and  "  niggers,"  and  as  many  lodgers  as 
may  deem  it  prudent  to  risk  the  somewhat  equivocal 
allotment  of  sleeping  partners.  On  the  night  in  ques 
tion,  our  friend,  after  a  hearty  supper  of  ham  and  eggs, 
and  a  canvass  of  the  Firey  Forkers — the  old  lady  hav 
ing  pointed  out  his  bed — felt  very  weary,  and  only 
looked  for  an  opportunity  to  "  turn  in,"  though  the 
mosquitoes  were  trumping  all  sorts  of  wrath,  arid  no 
net  appeared  to  bar  them.  The  dogs  flung  themselves 
along  the  floor,  or  again  rose,  restlessly,  and  sought 
the  door-step  ;  the  «  niggers"  stuck  their  feet  in  the 
yet  warm  ashes  ;  the  old  man  stripped,  unscrupulously, 
and  sought  his  share  of  the  one  collapsed-looking  pil 
low,  and  the  sons  cavalierly  followed  his  example, 
leaving  the  old  woman,  «  gals,"  and  "  stranger,"  to 
settle  any  question  of  delicacy  that  might  arise. 

The  candidate  yawned,  looked  at  his  bed,  went  to 
the  door,  looked  at  the  daughters  ;  finally,  in  down 
right  recklessness,  seating  himself  upon  «  the  downy," 
and  pulling  off  his  coat.  Well,  he  pulled  off  his  coat, 
and  he  folded  his  coat,  and  then  he  yawned,  and  then 
he  whistled,  and  then  he  called  the  old  lady's  atten 
tion  to  the  fact,  that  it  would  never  do  to  sleep  in 
his  muddy  trowsers ;  and  then  he  "  undid"  his  vest, 
and  then  he  whistled  again,  and  then,  suddenly,  an 
idea  of  her  lodger's  possible  embarrassment  seemed 
to  flash  upon  the  old  woman,  and  she  cried — 

«  Gals,  jest  turn  your  backs  round  'till  the  stranger 
gits  into  bed." 

The  backs  were  turned,  and  the  stranger  did  get  into 


HONEY   RUN.  159 

bed  in  "  less  than  no  time,"  when  the  hostess  again 
spoke  : 

« Reckon,  stranger,  as  you  aint  used  to  us,  you'd 
better  kiver  up  till  the  gals  undress,  hadn't  you  ?" 

By  this  time  our  friend's  sleepy  fit  was  over,  and, 
though  he  did  "  kiver  up,"  as  desired,  some  how  or 
other  the  old  counterpane  was  equally  kind  in  hiding 
his  blushes,  and  favoring  his  sly  glances.  The  nymphs 
were  soon  stowed  away,  for  there  were  neither  bustles 
to  unhitch  nor  corsets  to  unlace,  when  their  mamma, 
evidently  anxious  not  to  smother  her  guest,  consider 
ately  relieved  him. 

« You  can  uu/civer  now,  stranger ;  I'm  married 
folks,  and  you  ain't  afeard  o'  me,  I  reckon!" 

The  stranger  happened  to  be  «  married  folks"  him 
self;  he  unkivered  and  turned  his  back  with  true  con 
nubial  indifference,  as  far  as  the  ancient  lady  was 
concerned;  but,  with  regard  to  the  "gals,"  he  de 
clares  that  his  half-raised  curiosity  inspired  the  most 
tormenting  dreams  of  mermaids  that  ever  he  expe 
rienced. 


A  "HUNG"  JURY. 


AMONG  the  dispensers  of  justice  in  a  certain  central 
ward  of  old  St.  Louis,  during  its  unpretending,  "  even- 
handed"  days,  was  'Squire  W .  His  astute  com 
prehension  of,  and  rigid  adherence  to,  legal  proprieties 
are  yet  recollected.  A  case  was  submitted  to  him, 
"  once  on  a  time  ;"  but,  his  decision  not  satisfying  one 
of  the  parties,  (very  likely  to  occur,  by-the-by,  even  in 
primitive  ages,)  the  case  was  «  continued ;"  which 
further  step,  according  to  the  rule  in  justices'  courts, 
now  as  then,  involves  the  ceremony  and  expense  of  a 
jury. 

The  second  trial  came  on,  unfortunately,  upon  a 
morning  which,  for  some  good  cause  or  other,  the 
whole  town  had  devoted  to  jubilee  and  rejoicing — 
whether  it  was  that  a  great  man  was  to  be  «  received," 
or  another  great  man  dismissed,  it  is  immaterial ;  suf 
fice  it  that  guns  and  drums  equally  did  their  duty  in 
calling  the  citizens  away  from  theirs. 

Plaintiff  and  defendant  were  punctual  in  their  at 
tendance  before  the  justice,  anxious  to  settle  their  dif 
ference — just  as  anxious  to  have  their  share  of  the  show 
— and  the  officer  was  despatched  to  collect  a  jury ;  but, 
after  a  no  less  anxious  search,  he  was  obliged  to  return 
160 


A    HUNG   JURY.  161 

without  a  man,  his  summons  going  for  nothing  in  the 
general  excitement. 

Impatient  at  the  delay,  the  parties  litigant  agreed  to 
wave  the  matter  of  a  jury  altogether  ;  to  just  re-argue 
the  matter  and  abide  by  "  His  Honor's"  decision.  But 
His  Honor  had  his  own  more  reverend  parade  of  the 
law  to  enjoy,  and,  therefore,  with  a  chief  justice  air,  he 
declared  that,  inasmuch  as  that  the  case  had  been  con 
tinued,  and  that  the  purpose  of  said  continuance  was 
entirely  to  obtain  the  sense  of  a  jury,  it  would  be  all 
nonsense  to  proceed  in  any  less  regular  way.  "  There 
fore,  Mr.  Constable,"  continued  the  'Squire,  "  you 
will,  by  virtue  of  your  authority,  summon  and  compel 
the  presence  of  a  jury  forthwith." 

The  constable  again  set  forth,  the  «  bench"  relapsed 
into  abstruse  cogitation,  and  the  plaintiff  and  defend 
ant  were  fain  to  content  themselves  with  the  hope  of 
getting  clear  «  after  a  while." 

Wearily  went  the  moments  ;  but,  at  length,  the  in 
defatigable  officer,  bathed  in  perspiration,  returned, 
having  secured  one  well-known,  easy-going  citizen, 
remarkable  as  being  the  largest,  lovingest,  and  laziest 
man  about  town. 

"  'Squire,"  said  the  panting  official,  "  I've  gotten 
Bob,  'cause  he  says  it  don't  make  much  difference  to 
him ;  but  there  isn't  nary  nother  as  don't  say  they'll 

see  me  d d  first,  and  so  the  thing's  out,  as  far  as 

my  footin'  on  it  goes,  I  reckon !"  The  constable 
wiped  his  brow  with  determination,  the  justice  began 
to  foresee  a  dilemma,  and  nothing  but  the  "  costs" 
prevented  « the  parties,"  in  spite  of  their  attorneys, 
from  flipping  up  "  head  or  tail"  for  an  issue. 

At  length  the  constable  made  a  suggestion,  which 
11 


162  A   HUNG  JURY. 

the  "  parties"  eagerly  consenting  to,  the  'Squire  finally 
sanctioned.  This  was,  that  Bob,  the  lazy  gentleman 
just  mentioned,  should  serve  as  jury  «  all  alone  by 
himself!" 

AJ1  was  settled  at  once  ;  the  lazy  gentleman  de 
clared  that  it  "  made  no  difference,"  and,  getting  "a 
chew"  from  the  constable,  down  he  sat.  The  plead 
ings  were  despatched  ;  the  jury  was  charged ;  the  ap 
proaching  procession  was  heard  in  the  distance,  and 
all  parties  were  only  waiting  to  hear  the  verdict,  when 
the  jury,  after  one  or  two  indolent  hitches  in  his  chair, 
and  a  leisurely  discharge  of  tobacco  juice  from  be 
tween  his  teeth,  turned  to  the  court  and  said — 

«  Well,  I  reckon,  'Squire,  the  jury '11  have  to  retire" 

This  was  unexpected,  and  had  not  been  altogether 

the  mode,  either,  in  Justice  W 's  court,  inasmuch  as 

there  was  no  place  for  the  jury  to  retire  to,  except 
within  themselves ;  but  the  present  body  was  unani 
mously  of  opinion  that  he  ought  to  have  a  fair  shake 
at  the  merits  of  the  case,  and  so  the  court  adjourned 
to  the  sidewalk,  leaving  the  jury  all  to  himself,  with 
his  heels  on  the  table. 

Moment  after  moment  passed  away  ;  the  litigants 
every  now  and  then  cast  a  glance  in  at  the  conscien 
tious  umpire  ;  the  procession  was  evidently  approach 
ing  along  the  next  street,  and,  suddenly,  the  «  oppo 
site  counsel"  excusing  themselves,  walked  off  towards 
the  corner.  Drums,  hurrahs,  &c.,  now  began  to  swell 
upon  the  air,  and  plaintiff  and  defendant,  after  sundry 
inquiries  as  to  the  chances,  even  marched  off  also,  leav 
ing  the  'squire  and  constable  to  receive  the  verdict. 
The  constable  next  became  impatient,  and,  finally,  the 


A    HUNG   JURY.  163 

'squire  himself  got  the  fidgets ;  each  moment  seemed 
an  age,  until  the  dubious  twelfth  was  just  asked  if 
he  was  "  going  to  take  the  whole  day  or  not  ?" 

«  Well,  the  fact  is,  'Squire,  the  jury  can't  agree,  no 
how.  We're  just  hung,  and  no  mistake ;  and,  if 
you  can't  let  us  stay  out,  why  you'd  better  discharge 
us,  by  thunder  \n 

The  jury  was  discharged  ! 


PATERNAL  GUSHINGS, 


SOME  one  went  into  "  fits  and  dem'd  raptures,"  as 
Mantalini  would  have  it,  last  month,  in  the  Knicker 
bocker,  about  a  baby,  a  boy-baby,  a  fifteen-pound-boy- 
baby  being  born  to  him !  Does  he  know  that  he  is  a  green 
horn  ?  Does  he  know  that  he  yet  knows  nothing  ?  A 
"  fifteen  pound"  is  a  «  whopper"  to  be  sure — a  "  fine 
child,"  and  it  may  have  its  "  father's  nose"  and  all 
that ;  but,  we  repeat  it,  he  knows  nothing,  he  has  never 
had  twins  I  twins — ye  gods !  a  pair  of  'em  !  naked, 
little,  rosy,  bawling  busters !  in  vestis  cubicularis  !  If 
he  had,  he  might  talk.  If  he'd  ever  had,  afterwards, 
twelve  women  hauling  him  about,  and  telling  him  he 
was  the  luckiest  man  in  the  world — passing  the  swad 
dled  ones  from  hand  to  hand,  with  kisses  ringing  like 
pistol  shots ; — ihehee-e-e  wei-e-e  of  the  cherubs — mamma 
"  doing  well,"  lying  in  lavender  with  a  frilled  cap  on, 
smiling  like  a  soul  in  bliss,  and  insisting  on  having  'em 
both  back,  for  she  «  knows  they  want  her" — If  he'd 
ever  had  big  he  fists  slapped  on  his  shoulders,  wicked 
fingers  punched  into  his  ribs,  his  health  drank  with 
"  hurrah's,"  while  merry  voices  have  declared  that  he 
ought  to  be  "  ashamed  of  himself;" — going  home, 
then  his  heart  dancing,  his  head  singing,  feathers  to  his 
heels,  making  but  two  steps  from  curb-stone  to  curb- 
164 


PATERNAL    GUSHINGS.  165 

stone,  his  latch-key  ready  six  squares  off,  and,  once 
inside,  springing  up  stairs,  boots  in  his  hand,  a  story 
at  a  time  ; — we  say,  if  going  home  so,  and  opening  the 
chamber  door,  as  fain  to  glide  in  through  the  key-hole 
he  had  ever  been  stopped  by  the  nurse's  "  Hush,"  and, 
directed  by  her  finger  to  the  bed,  had  contemplated — 
what?  ye  gods!  Heaven,  peace,  contentment,  love, 
ecstasy — too  big  for  speech,  too  full  not  to  run  over ; 
tears !  yes,  grateful,  heart-swelling,  hope-crowning, 
joyous  tears !  Fast  asleep,  all !  think  of  saying  «  all!" 
calm,  lovely  sleep ;  a  rose  and  two  buds ;  bosoms 
heaving,  a  harmony  of  sighs,  -ZEolian  whispers  stirring 
with  melody  every  heaven-strung  chord  in  the  bosom 
of  the  happiest  dog  alive !  Had  he  ever,  too  excited 
to  go  to  his  lone  bed  in  the  next  room,  laid  down  in 
his  trowsers,  gazed  to  wards  the  shading  curtains,  listened 
to  the  little  nestlings,  the  fussy  kickings — the — the —  ? 
We  again  and  again  say  it,  he's  a  green-horn,  a  young 
'un — he  knows  nothing. — Furthermore,  there  is  an 
ecstasy  to  come  he  has'nt  dreamt  of;  a  fifteen-pound- 
boy-baby  is  well  enough,  it's  "  wheels  and  its  pulleys, 
its  pumps  and  its  valves,  its  engines  and  reservoirs,  its 
beautiful  machinery,"  &c.,  all  well  enough,  but  wait 
'till  it  speaks!  wait  'till  it  says  «cow!"  that's  the 
phrensy !  Wait,until  convinced  by  its  blessed  mother's 
incessant  instructions,  at  the  window,  that  a  cow,  a 
«moo-ly  cow,"  is  the  most  interesting  object  in  nature, 
•:t  dances  in  its  daddy's  arms,  points  with  its  little 
fager  to  a  pig  in  the  gutter,  and  says  «cow-w!"  a 
whole  room  full  of  admiring  friends  and  neighbours 
^eady  to  devour  it — not  the  pig,  but  the  little  dear,  "so 
forward !" 
Hark1  a  band  of  music — louder — a  company  oi 


166  PATERNAL    GUSHINGS. 

soldiers  in  the  next  street;  ma  and  company  rise,  up 
go  the  windows,  in  rush  the  children — drum  and  trum 
pet — every  head  out — coming  round  corner — «  shadows 
before" — a  swarm  of  little  boys  with  paper  caps  and 
clam  shells — Hooray!  there's  the  captain — epaulets 
and  feather — walking  backward — sword  extended — 
word  of  command — «  Left  wheel !"  at  same  instant — 
heel  in  hole — down  goes  captain — scream  of  delight — • 
line  breaks,  and  "cow — cow,"  cries  the  blessed  child, 
half  crazy! 

But  it  has  «  stood  alone"  before  this,  and  had  "  a 
tooth"  before  that,  and  been  "  very  large  for  its  age" 
before  either ;  and  we,  having  lived  through  the  whole, 
and  being  proud  of  our  experience,  we  tell  the  Knicker 
bocker  man  again  and  again,  that  he  knows  nothing, 
that  he  makes  himself  ridiculous,  that  he's  a  bigger 
boy  than  his  "  fifteen  pounder"  to  go  on  so,  and  every 
parent  who  has  reared  «  a  fine  child"  to  cut  teeth  and 
say  «  cow,"  will  agree  with  us.  At  the  same  time,  as 
some  excuse,  it's  a  "  first ;"  as  a  further  excuse,  he 
showed  some  sense  in  getting  married  ;  and  as,  perhaps, 
a  total  excuse,  he  really  has  managed  to  become  a 
father ;  and,  we  advise  our  young  friends,  in  each  re 
spect,  to  emulate  his  example. 

By-the-by,  here  is  something — a  pro  pos  to  the 
subject. 


A  WERRY  GRAVE  EXHORTATION. 

You  hasn't  yet  got  married,  Knick, 
You  doesn't  know  the  sweets, 

The  little  soothin'  solaces 
As  we  wot's  married  meets ; 


PATERNAL    GUSHINGS.  167 

The  bosom's  warm  emotions,  and 

The  drops  within  the  eyes, 
The  nice  clean  shirts  and  stockings,  and 

All  them  'ere  tender  ties ! 

You  don't  know  what  it  is,  Knick, 

A-lyin'  in  your  bed, 
To  gaze  on  careful  woman's  form — 

While  the  breakfast  things  is  spread  ; 
When  you  don't  want  to  get  up,  cos 

The  kiver  feels  so  nice  ; 
And  she  says,  «  Won't  you  have  another  cup, 

And  this  'ere  other  slice  ?" 

The  fire  a-burnin'  bright,  Knick, 

And  all  upon  a  chair, 
Your  linen,  and  your  draw'rs,  Knick, 

A-hangin'  up  to  air ; 
I  axes  ev'ry  heart,  Knick, 

As  isn't  made  of  steel, 
If  one  can  look  upon  that  fire 

And  not  a  warmin'  feel ! 

Oh,  werry  few,  indeed,  Knick, 

Knows  when  they're  truly  happy, — 
When  the  baby  is  fetched  in,  Knick, 

To  kiss  it's  "  lazy  pappy ;" 
"  You  ittle  diny  piny  ting, 

It's  mammy  turn  and  eat  her ; 
You  bessed  babe  it  was  so  tweet 

It  tood'nt  be  no  tweeter! 

"You  dod-a-bessed  angel  you — 

Don't  pull  it's  pappy's  hair ; 
Take  fingers  out  of  pappy's  cup — 

Don't  cry — it  shall  den — there ; 


168  PATERNAL    GUSHINGS. 

Oh,  fie,  to  spill  all  pappy's  tea — 
You  naughty  ducky  diny ; 

You  oney,  doney,  roguey,  poguey, 
Sweetest,  sugar  shiney !" 

Oh,  Knick,  there  is  some  minits  when 

The  stoutest  hearts  '11  quiver; 
Just  let  a  baby  spill  your  tea, 

While  you're  beneath  the  kiver ; 
One  little  hand  within  your  hair, 

The  other  in  your  cup — 
Don't  wonder  we  so  often  feels 

As  we  could  "eat  'em  up/" 


"YOUR  TURN  NEXT,  SIR.3 


THE  principle  of  « rotation"  should  never  be  lost 
sight  of  in  a  democracy — never,  above  all,  in  a  barber's 
shop !  «  Order  is  Heaven's  first  law,"  and  "Louis's" 
also,  as  the  many  shavers,  who  patronize  that  attentive 
functionary  at  his  establishment,  the  Italian  Baths,  St. 
Louis,  are  well  aware  of. 

Let  the  reader  be  kind  enough  to  consider  himself 
an  anxious  gentleman  with  a  "  two- day's  beard"  on, 
seated  at  9J  A.  M.,  on  one  of  Louis's  sofas  ;  his  coat 
off,  his  neck  exposed,  and  evincing  other  symptoms  of 
impatient  readiness  to  place  himself  in  the  first  chair 
vacant.  There  they  are,  some  six  or  eight  of  them, 
reclining  almost  horizontally,  as  their  lazy  heels  are 
elevated,  on  luxuriously  stuffed  mahogany  stools, 
nearly  to  the  level  of  their  drowsy  heads.  See  how 
the  rascals  enjoy  it !  There  is  one  fellow  now,  with 
his  plaguy  bright  boots,  grunting  with  satisfaction 
under  the  champooing  operation  ;  his  eyes  closed,  and 
his  head  wagging,  as  the  brisk  fingers  of  the  professor 
make  themselves  acquainted  with  the  topography  of  his 
cranium — it'll  be  sixty  minutes  at  least  before  he's 
done  !  There's  another  !  his  chaps  lathered  until  they 
look  like  a  prize  specimen  of  frosted  confectionary , 
and  yet  the  operator,  as  if  pleased  with  the  snowy 
y  169 


170  YOUR    TURN    NEXT,    SIR. 

beauty  of  his  art,  is  adding  fresh  dabs — so  they  fondly 
pet  a  pat  of  butter  !  Will  none  of  them  budge  ?  Look 
at  that  character  getting  his  hair  cut ;  he  has  evidently 
no  faith  in  his  tonsor  ;  he  knows  he  is  in  a  «  latest  cut" 
establishment,  but  hair  is  his  weakness !  See  how 
anxiously  he  consults  his  hand-gjass;  a  miss-clip  on 
that  side-lock  would  ruin  him  !  That  man  has  distinct 
visions  of  the  mode  in  Broadway  and  Chestnut  street, 
and  a  downright  suspicion,  if  not  a  positive  contempt, 
is  vexing  his  mind  during  this  fateful  amputation  I — 
^urse  that  fellow,  he'll  take  a  week ! 

Look  at  that  plethoric  monster,  and  wonder  why,  as 
the  razor  glides  over  his  florid  folds,  you  can  think  of 
nothing  but  a  green  turtle  !  He's  jocose,  too  ;  and,  as 
he  makes  his  ebony  attendant  grin,  see  how  he  lifts 
the  corner  of  his  eye  to  watch  the  effect  on  his  neigh 
bor.  Thank  the  stars — no  you  don't !  «  Your  turn 
next,  sir  /"  and  a  cool,  consummate,  quiet  customer, 
who  has  been  reading  the  paper  unnoticed  at  your 
elbow,  rises  deliberately,  unties  his  cravat,  takes  off  his 
coat,  and  you  are  led  to  inquire,  mentally,  if  it  is  his 
turn  next,  how  many  more  may  be  before  you  ?  Hor 
rible  suggestion  !  There  are,  actually,  a  dozen  loiter 
ers  with  beards  on  !  How  many  of  them  have  entered 
after  you,  a  mere  matter,  of  guess- work  to  all  save  the 
omniscient  oracle  of  «  Your  turn  next,  sir  /"  Another 
rises.  "Your  turn  next,  sir!"  not  your  turn,  reader; 
take  it  patiently. 

Did  any  Christian  ever  see  such  an  abomination  as 
is  practised  upon  the  human  countenance  in  this  same 
city  of  St.  Louis  ?  Look  at  that  apparently  magnetized 
bust,  the  brows,  cheeks,  and  neck,  appertaining  to 
which  are  at  this  moment  being  smeared  over  from 


"Your  turn  next,  sir." 

"Ah,  isn't  such  a  chair  a  comfort  r'—Page  170. 


YOUR    TURN    NEXT,  SIR.  171 

tne  lather-cup — back  and  front,  preparatory  to  a  scrub 
— as  if  the  possibility  of  a  gentleman  extending  his 
own  ablutions  round  the  base  of  his  skull  were  a  stretch 
of  cleanliness  not  to  be  thought  of!  Dab — dab — dab 
— d-d-d-dab!  Isn't  he  a  pretty  looking  object  ?  Ah, 
there  goes  the  sponge ! — over  his  brow — back  of  his 
neck — washing  himself  will  never  trouble  his  thoughts 
after  this,  certainly ! 

"  Your   turn   next,  sir  /"     May  all one  of  the 

punishments  in  the  Swedenborgian  next  world,  indu 
bitably,  will  be  waiting  in  a  barber's  shop  for  "  your 
turn  next!"  Dr.  Bush  must  speak  to  this  point  forth 
with.  There's  a  pug-nosed  villain  been  under  the  soap 
for  seventy-five  minutes  by  the  church-bells,  and  now, 
confound  him,  he  "  feels  so  good"  that  he's  getting 
his  hair  cut!  "  Your  turn  next,  sir!"  Go  to  the 

eh  !  what !  not  my  turn  ?    «  YOUR  turn  next,  sir!" 

I  am  (meaning  you  are,  reader,)  mollified  !  Under  the 
hands  of  Louis  himself,  too !  Civil  Louis !  Good- 
looking  Louis !  Louis  that'll  be  a  prince  one  of  these 
days,  and  go  to  Paris  !  Ah,  isn't  such  a  chair  a  com 
fort  ?  Run  your  eye  along  your  leg,  and  see  what  that 
is — agitating  your  toes  so  ! — a  fluttering  juvenile,  dust 
ing  the  tips  of  your  boots !  Ah,  the  first  tap  of  the 
brush — agreeable  temperature  !  Now  it  glides  over 
your  jaws,  and  you  wouldn't  change  for  a  warm  bath ! 
The  steel — not  a  scrape,  reader,  but  a  touch,  as  if  your 
cheek  were  swept  by  a  butterfly's  wing !  Exquisite 
Louis!  If  you  would  subdue  your  enemy,  put  him 
into  a  soft  chair  and  shave  him!  How  the  strings 
about  your  heart  relax !  No  more  straining  and 
tightening ;  thoughts  of  ease — ideas  of  charity — they 
come  and  go,  and  now  you  are  on  the  confines  of 


172  YOUR   TURN   NEXT,    SIR. 

dream-land  ! — softer-  —softer — murmuring — music 

Hallo  !  actually  took  a  nap  !  What  the  deuce  are  you 
about,  back  of  one's  neck  ?  Lather  ?  Well,  «  go 
it!"  Wouldn't  get  up  for  the  world  !  So — squeeze 
your  sponge  a  little,  though,  there's  a  drop  down  one's 
back.  Ah,  a  Cologne  wipe,  delightful !  and  now  for  a 
champoo — never  mind  those  fellows  waiting  ! 

"And,  as  his  flying  fingers  touch  the  keys" — 

There  he  is  now,  playing  away  on  your  benevolence ; 
now,  ideality,  a  scratch — exquisite  ! — Hope,  music 

— murmurs — dream-land  again !  Hallo — towel 

jerked  away !  "  Your  turn  next,  sir  /"  Remorseless 
Louis !  actually  dismissed — despatched — turned  out ! 
nothing  but  a  job  after  all !  Patience,  however,  and 
take  a  peep  \r  the  glass.  There  are  jaws  of  velvet  and 
locks  of  silk  !  Sir,  you've  been  under  the  hands  of  an 
artiste !  Any  one  may  see  Italian  Baths  written  in 
your  face  ;  scent  Iredell  fy  Glamorgan  in  your  perfumed 
path '  On  with  your  coat ;  your  well-smoothed  hat ; 
take  your  stick ;  a  parting  glance  ;  greet  the  sunlight 
— damme,  you're  a  nosegay! 

Your  turn  next,  sir  ! 


STOPPING  TO  "WOOD/ 


IN  spite  of  the  magic  changes  which  have  been 
•wrought  in  the  "  way  of  doing  things"  upon  the 
western  waters,  the  primitive  mode  of  "wooding" 
from  the  bank  remains  unaltered — as  a  sort  of  vaga 
bond  Indian  in  the  midst  of  a  settlement — as  the  gal 
lows  does  in  the  light  of  civilization.  The  same  rude 
plank  is  "  shoved"  ashore,  the  same  string  of  black 
and  white  straggle  through  the  mud  to  the  "  pile,"  the 
same  weary  waste  of  time  exists  as  was  the  case  twenty 
years  ago.  Steamers  have  grown  from  pigmies  to 
giants,  speed  has  increased  from  a  struggle  to  a  "rush," 
yet  the  conception  of  a  ready  loaded  truck,  or  a  burden- 
swinging  crane — despatching  a  "  cord"  for  every 
shoulder  load,  appears  not  to  have  entered  the  head  of 
either  wood  dealer  or  captain. 

At  the  same  time,  though  the  present  mode  is  to  be 
condemned  as  «  behind  the  time;"  as  tedious,  slovenly, 
and  unnecessary,  there  are  occasions  when  "  stopping 
to  wood"  is  an  event  of  positive  interest  and  excite 
ment.  Passed  over  be  the  fine  sun-shiney  morning 
when,  jogging  along — nothing  behind — nothing  before, 
the  passengers  lounging  about — heels  up,  or  heads 
down — the  unnoticed  bell  gives  the  signal  for  "wood," 
and  the  boat  draws  listlessly  alongside  of  the  "pile." 
Equally  unregarded  be  the  rainy  day,  when,  mud  to  the 
knees  and  drenched  to  the  skin,  the  steaming  throng, 

173 


174 

slipping  and  plashing,  drop  their  backloads,  with  a 
"whew /"  and  fail  to  find,  even  in  the  whisky  barrel,  a 
laugh  or  a  "  break  down."  But  not  so  the  star-lit  even 
ing  in  June,  when,  the  water  at  a  "good  stage,"  and 
out  for  a  "  brag  trip,"  with  a  rival  boat  behind,  and 
the  furnaces  roaring  for  «  more"  the  more  they  are  fed, 
the  signal  is  given  and  a  faint  flicker  on  the  distant 
bank  beacons  the  hungry  monster  towards  its  further 
supply  of  fuel.  From  New  Orleans  thus  far  on  the  trip 
up,  the  two  boats,  of  nearly  equal  speed,  have  alter 
nately  passed  each  other  during  the  stop  to  «  wood," 
showing  no  gain  of  consequence  on  the  part  of  either, 
and  the  grand  struggle  has  been  as  it  at  present  is,  to 
«  rush"  the  operation  so  as  to  get  a  start  before  being 
overtaken.  The  bank  is  reached — the  boat  made  fast — 
gangways  are  formed — "  Lively !  men,  lively!"  cries  the 
mate,  and  while  the  upper  cabins  pour  out  their  crowds 
upon  the  boiler  deck,  the  «  hands,"  and  the  swarms  of 
wild-looking  passengers  below  (obliged  by  contract) 
dash  ashore  among  the  brush.  Now  ensues  a  scene 
that  tasks  description !  The  fire,  augmented  by  piles 
of  the  driest  wood,  crimsons  the  tangled  forest !  Black 
and  white,  many  of  them  stripped  to  their  waist,  thoufoa 
others,  more  careful,  protect  their  skins  by  ripping  and 
forming  cowls  of  empty  salt  sacks,  attack  the  lengthened 
pile,  and  amid  laugh,  shout,  curse,  and  the  scarcely  in 
termitting  scream  of  the  iron  chimneys,  (tortured  by  the 
still  making  steam,)  remove  it  to  the  boat. 

"Lively,  men,  lively!"  rings  the  cry,  and  lively, 
lively  is  the  impulse  inspired  by  it !  See  that  swart, 
gigantic  negro,  his  huge  shoulder  hidden  beneath  a 
pyramid  of  wood,  hurl  to  the  deck  his  load,  cut  a 
caper  along  the  plank,  and,  leaping  back,  seize  a  flam- 


STOPPING   TO  "  WOOD."  175 

ing  br^nd  to  whirl  it  round  his  head  in  downright  en 
joyment!  "Lively!  lively!"  Laugh,  shout,  whoop, 
and  the  pile  is  rapidly  disappearing,  when  a  cry  is  heard 
from  the  "  hurricane  deck" — 

«  Here  she  comes,  round  the  point !" 

'Tis  the  rival  steamer,  sure  enough  ;  and  once  more 
she  will  pass  during  this  detention.  Now  dash  both 
mate  and  captain  ashore  to  "  rush"  the  matter.  The 
bell  is  struck  for  starting,  as  if  to  compel  impossibility  ; 
the  accumulated  steam  is  let  off  in  brief,  impatient 
screams,  and  the  passengers,  sharing  the  wild  excite 
ment,  add  their  cries. 

"Passed  again,  by  thunder !"  "We've  got  enough 
wood!"  "Leave  the  rest!"  &c.  In  the  mean  time, 
round  the  point  below,  sweeps  the  up-comer — all  lights 
and  sparks — moving  over  the  water  like  a  rushing  fire- 
palace !  Now  her  «  blow"  is  heard,  like  a  suppressed 
curse  of  struggle  and  defiance,  and  now,  nearing  the 
bank  where  lies  her  rival,  a  sort  of  frenzy  seizes  on  the 
latter — 

"Tumble  it  in!"  "Rush  her!"  «D— n  the  rest!" 
"  You've  got  enough !"  Ra-a-a-s-h  !  goes  the  steam  ; 
the  engine,  "  working  off,"  thunders  below  ; — again, 
the  bell  rings,  and  the  hurly  burly  on  shore  is  almost 
savage.  At  length,  as  the  coming  boat  is  hard  on 
astern,  the  signal  tap  is  given,  "all  hands  aboard!" 
The  lines  are  let  go,  the  planks  are  shoved  in  by  the 
negroes  who  are  themselves  drawn  from  the  water  with 
them,  and  amid  a  chaos  of  timber,  a  whirl  of  steam, 
and  a  crash  of  machinery,  once  more  she  is  under 
weigh.  The  struggle  is  to  leave  the  bank  before  she 
can  be  passed,  and  fuel,  flame,  arid  phrensy,  seem 
ingly  unite  to  secure  the  object ;  barrels  of  combusti- 


176  STOPPING    TO    «  WOOD." 

bles  are  thrust  into  the  furnaces,  while,  before  the 
doors,  the  « firemen,"  naked  and  screaming,  urge 
their  wild  efforts! 

"Here  she  is,  along-side!"  and  now  the  struggle 
indeed  is  startling;  the  one  endeavouring  to  shoot  out 
from  the  bank  across  the  bows  of  the  other,  and  she, 
authorized  by  river  custom,  holding  her  way,  the  con 
sequences  of  collision  resting  alone  on  her  imprudent 
competitor.  Roar  for  roar — scream  for  scream — huzza 
for  huzza — but  now,  the  inner  boat  apparently  gaining, 
a  turn  of  her  antagonist's  wheel  leaves  her  no  option 
but  to  be  run  into  or  turn  again  towards  the  bank !  A 
hundred  oaths  and  screams  reply  to  this  manoeuvre, 
b'it  on  she  comes — on,  on, — a  moment  more  and  she 
strikes !  With  a  shout  of  rage  the  defeated  pilot  turns 
her  head — at  the  same  moment  snatching  down  his 
rifle  and  discharging  it  into  the  pilot-house  of  his  op 
ponent  !  Fury  has  now  seized  the  thoughts  of  all,  and 
the  iron  throats  of  the  steamers  are  less  hidous  than 
the  human  ones  beneath  them.  The  wheel  for  a  mo 
ment  neglected,  the  thwarted  monster  has  now  "taken 
a  sheer  in  the  wild  current,"  and,  beyond  the  possi 
bility  of  prevention,  is  driving  on  to  the  bank  !  A  cry 
of  terror  rises  aloft — the  throng  rush  aft — the  steam, 
every  valve  set  free — makes  the  whole  forest  shiver, 
and,  amid  the  fright,  the  tall  chimneys,  caught  by  the 
giant  trees,  are  wrenched  and  torn  out  like  tusks  from 
a  recoiling  mastadon. 

"  That's  a  stretcher,"  will  cry  out  some  readers,  and 
such  a  scene  is  not  likely  to  be  witnessed  71010,  but  the 
writer  will  not  soon  forget  that  such  he  bore  a  part  in, 
some  ten  years  ago,  and  that  the  captain,  when  asked 
what  he  thought  of  it,  replied,  «  Well,  I  think  we've 
got  h — 11,  any  how  '" 


DEATH  OF  MIKE  FINK. 


"  THE  Last  of  the  Boatmen"  has  not  become  alto 
gether  a  mythic  personage.  There  be  around  us  those 
who  still  remember  him  as  one  of  flesh  and  blood,  as 
well  of  proportions  simply  human,  albeit  he  lacked  not 
somewhat  of  the  heroic  in  stature,  as  well  as  in  being  a 
"perfect  terror"  to  people! 

As  regards  Mike,  it  has  not  yet  become  that  favourite 
question  of  doubt — "  Did  such  a  being  really  live  r" 
Nor  have  we  heard  the  skeptic  inquiry — "  Did  such  a 
being  really  die  ?"  But  his  death  in  half  a  dozen  dif 
ferent  ways  and  places  has  been  asserted,  and  this,  we 
take  it,  is  the  first  gathering  of  the  mythic  haze — that 
shadowy  and  indistinct  enlargement  of  outline,  which, 
deepening  through  long  ages,  invests  distinguished 
mortality  with  the  sublimer  attributes  of  the  hero  and 
the  demi-god.  Had  Mike  lived  in  « early  Greece," 
his  flat-boat  feats  would,  doubtless,  in  poetry,  have 
rivalled  those  of  Jason,  in  his  ship ;  while  in  Scandi 
navian  legends,  he  would  have  been  a  river-god,  to  a 
certainty!  The  Sea-kings  would  have  sacrificed  to 
him  every  time  they  "  crossed  the  bar,"  on  their  re 
turn  ;  and  as  for  Odin,  himself,  he  would  be  duly  ad 
vised,  as  far  as  any  interference  went,  to  « lay  low  and 
keep  dark,  or,  p  re-haps,"  &c. 

177 


178  DEATH    OF   MIKE    FINK. 

The  story  of  Mike  Fink,  including  a  death,  has  been 
beautifully  told  by  the  late  Morgan  Neville,  of  Cincin 
nati,  a  gentleman  of  the  highest  literary  taste,  is  well  as 
of  the  most  amiable  and  polished  manners.  «  The  Last 
of  the  Boatmen,"  as  his  sketch  is  entitled,  is  unexcep 
tionable  in  style,  and,  we  believe,  in  fact,  with  one 
exception,  and  that  is,  the  statement  as  to  the  manner 
and  place  of  Fink's  death.  He  did  not  die  on  the 
Arkansas,  but  at  Fort  Henry,  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Yellow  Stone.  Our  informant  is  Mr.  Chas.  Keemle  of 
this  paper,*  who  held  a  command  in  the  neighbour 
hood,  at  the  time,  and  to  whom  every  circumstance 
connected  with  the  affair  is  most  familiar.  We  give 
the  story  as  it  is  told  by  himself. 

In  the  year  1822,  steamboats  having  left  the  «  keels" 
and  "  broad-horns"'  entirely  «  out  of  sight,"  and  Mike 
having,  in  consequence,  fallen  from  his  high  estate — 
that  of  being  "  a  little  bit  the  almightiest  man  on  the 
river,  any  how" — after  a  term  of  idleness,  frolic  and 
desperate  rowdyism,  along  the  different  towns,  he,  at 
St.  Louis,  entered  the  service  of  the  Mountain  Fur 
Company,  raised  by  our  late  fellow-citizen  Gen.  W.  H. 
Ashley,  as  a  trapper  and  hunter ;  and  in  that  capacity 
was  he  employed  by  Major  Henry,  in  command  of  the 
Fort  at  the  mouth  of  Yellow  Stone  river,  when  the  oc 
currence  took  place  of  which  we  write. 

Mike,  with  many  generous  qualities,  was  always  a 
reckless  dare-devil ;  but,  at  this  time,  advancing  in 
years  and  decayed  in  influence,-  above  all  become  a 
victim  of  whisky,  he  was  morose  and  desperate  in  the 
extreme.  There  was  a  government  regulation  which 


St.  Louis  Reveille. 


DEATH    OF   MIKE    FINK.  179 

« 

forbade  the  free  use  of  alcohol  at  the  trading  posts  on 
the  Missouri  river,  and  this  was  a  continual  source  of 
quarrel  between  the  men  and  the  commandant,  Major 
Henry, — on  the  part  of  Fink,  particularly.  One  of  his 
freaks  was  to  march  with  his  rifle  into  the  fort,  and 
demand  a  supply  of  spirits.  Argument  was  fruitless, 
force  not  to  be  thought  of,  and  when,  on  being  posi 
tively  denied,  Mike  drew  up  his  rifle  and  sent  a  ball 
through  the  cask,  deliberately  walked  up  and  filled  his 
can,  while  his  particular  «  boys"  followed  his  example, 
all  that  could  be  done  was  to  look  upon  the  matter  as 
one  of  his  «  queer  ways,"  and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 

This  state  of  things  continued  for  some  time;  Mike's 
temper  and  exactions  growing  more  unbearable  every 
day,  until,  finally,  a  "  split"  took  place,  not  only  be 
tween  himself  and  the  commandant,  but  many  others 
in  the  fort,  and  the  unruly  boatman  swore  he  would 
not  live  among  them.  Followed  only  by  a  youth 
named  Carpenter,  whom  he  had  brought  up,  and  for 
whom  he  felt  a  rude  but  strong  attachment,  he  prepared 
a  sort  of  cave  in  the  river's  bank,  furnished  it  with  a 
supply  of  whisky,  and,  with  his  companion,  turned  in 
to  pass  the  winter,  which  was  then  closing  upon  them. 
In  thk  place  he  buried  himself,  sometimes  unseen  for 
weeks,  his  protege  providing  what  else  was  necessary 
beyond  the  whisky.  At  length  attempts  were  used,  on 
the  part  of  those  in  the  fort,  to  withdraw  Carpenter 
from  Fink ;  foul  insinuations  were  made  as  to  the 
nature  of  their  connection  ;  the  youth  was  twitted  with 
being  a  mere  slave,  &c.,  all  which  (Fink  heard  of  it 
in  spite  of  his  retirement)  served  to  breed  distrust  be 
tween  the  two,  and  though  they  did  not  separate,  much 
of  their  cordiality  ceased. 


J80  DEATH    OF   MIKE    FINK. 

The  winter  wore  away  in  this  sullen  state  of  torpor  ; 
spring  came  with  its  reviving  influences,  and  to  cele 
brate  the  season,  a  supply  of  alcohol  was  procured, 
and  a  number  of  his  acquaintances  from  the  fort  com 
ing  to  "rouse  out"  Mike,  a  desperate  "frolic,"  of 
course,  ensued. 

There  were  river  yarns,  and  boatmen  songs,  and 
"nigger  break-downs,"  interspersed  with  wrestling- 
matches,  jumping,  laugh,  and  yell,  the  can  circulating 
freely,  until  Mike  became  somewhat  mollified. 

"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  boys,"  he  cried,  "the  fort's 
a  skunk-hole,  and  I  rather  live  with  the  bars  than  stay 
in  it.  Some  on  ye's  bin  trying  to  part  me  and  my 
boy,  that  I  love  like  my  own  cub — but  no  matter. 
Maybe  he's  jptsoned  against  me  ;  but,  Carpenter,  (strik 
ing  the  youth  heavily  on  the  shoulder,)  I  took  you  by 
the  hand  when  it  had  forgotten  the  touch  of  a  father's 
or  a  mother's — you  know  me  to  be  a  man,  and  you 
ain't  a  going  to  turn  out  a  dog !" 

Whether  it  was  that  the  youth  fancied  something  in 
sulting  in  the  manner  of  the  appeal,  or  not,  we  can't  say ; 
but  it  was  not  responded  to  very  warmly,  and  a  reproach 
followed  from  Mike.  However,  they  drank  together, 
and  the  frolic  went  on,  until  Mike,  filling  his  can, 
walked  off  some  forty  yards,  placed  it  upon  his  head, 
and  called  to  Carpenter  to  take  his  rifle. 

This  wild  feat  of  shooting  cans  off  each  other's  head 
was  a  favourite  one  with  Mike — himself  and  "  boy" 
generally  winding  up  a  hard  frolic  with  this  .savage, 
but  deeply-meaning  proof  of  continued  confidence  ; — • 
as  for  risk,  their  eagle  eyes  and  iron  nerves  defied  the 
might  of  whisky.  After  their  recent  alienation,  a  doubly 


DEATH    OF   MIKE   FINK.  iSl 

generous  impulse,  without  doubt,  had  induced  Fink  to 
propose  and  subject  himself  to  the  test. 

Carpenter  had  been  drinking  wildly,  and  with  a 
boisterous  laugh  snatched  up  his  rifle.  All  present  had 
seen  the  parties  "shoot,"  and  this  desperate  aim,  instead 
of  alarming,  was  merely  made  a  matter  of  wild  jest. 

"  Your  grog  is  spilt,  for  ever,  Mike  !" 

"Kill  the  old  varmint,  young  'uri !" 

«  What'll  his  skin  bring  in  St.  Louis  ?"  &c.  &c. 

Amid  a  loud  laugh,  Carpenter  raised  his  piece — even 
the  jesters  remarked  that  he  was  unsteady, — crack !" 
• — the  can  fell, — a  loud  shout, — but,  instead  of  a  smile 
of  pleasure,  a  dark  frown  settled  upon  the  face  of  Fink! 
He  made  no  motion  except  to  clutch  his  rifle  as  though 
he  would  have  crushed  it,  and  there  he  stood,  gazing 
at  the  youth  strangely !  Various  shades  of  passion 
crossed  his  features — surprise,  rage,  suspicion — but  at 
length  they  composed  themselves  into  a  sad  expres 
sion  ;  the  ball  had  grazed  the  top  of  his  head,  cutting 
the  scalp,  and  the  thought  of  treachery  had  set  his  heart 
on  fire. 

There  was  a  loud  call  upon  Mike  to  know  what  he 
was  waiting  for,  in  which  Carpenter  joined,  pointing  to 
the  can  upon  his  head  and  bidding  him  fire,  if  he  knew 
how! 

"Carpenter,  my  son,"  said  the  boatman,  "I  taught 
you  to  shoot  differently  from  that  last  shot !  You've 
missed  once,  but  you  won't  again !" 

He  fired,  and  his  ball,  crashing  through  the  forehead 
of  the  youth,  laid  him  a  corpse  amid  his,  as  suddenly 
hushed,  companions ! 

Time  wore  on — many  at  the  fort  spoke  darkly  of 
the  deed.  Mike  Fink  had  never  been  known  to  miss 


182  DEATH    OF   MIKE    FINK. 

his  aim — he  had  grown  afraid  of  Carpenter — he  had 
murdered  him!  While  this  feeling  was  gathering 
against  him,  the  unhappy  boatman  lay  in  his  cave, 
shunning  both  sympathy  and  sustenance.  He  spoke 
to  none — when  he  did  come  forth,  'twas  as  a  spectre, 
and  only  to  haunt  the  grave  of  his  "  boy,"  or,  if  he  did 
Dreak  silence,  'twas  to  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage 
against  the  enemies  who  had  "  turned  his  boy's  heart 
from  him  !" 

At  the  fort  was  a  man  by  the  name  of  Talbott,  the 
gunsmith  of  the  station :  he  was  very  loud  and  bitter 
in  his  denunciations  of  the  "  murderer,"  as  he  called 
Fink,  which,  finally,  reaching  the  ears  of  the  latter, 
filled  him  with  the  most  violent  passion,  and  he  swore 
that  he  would  take  the  life  of  his  defamer.  This  threat 
was  almost  forgotten,  when  one  day,  Talbott,  who  was 
at  work  in  his  shop,  saw  Fink  enter  the  fort,  his  first 
visit  since  the  death  of  Carpenter.  Fink  approached  ; 
he  was  careworn,  sick,  and  wasted  ;  there  was  no  anger 
in  his  bearing,  but  he  carried  his  rifle,  (had  he  ever 
gone  without  it  ?)  and  the  gunsmith  was  not  a  coolly 
brave  man  ;  moreover,  his  life  had  been  threatened. 

"  Fink,"  cried  he,  snatching  up  a  pair  of  pistols 
from  his  bench,  "  don't  approach  me — if  you  do,  you're 
a  dead  man  !" 

"  Talbott,"  said  the  boatman,  in  a  sad  voice,  "  you 
needn't  be  afraid  ;  you've  done  me  wrong — I'm  come 
to  talk  to  you  about — Carpenter — my  boy!" 

He  continued  to  advance,  and  the  gunsmith  again 
called  to  him : 

"  Fink !  I  know  you  ;  if  you  come  three  steps  nearer, 
I'll  fire,  by !" 

Mike  carried  his  rifle  across  his  arm,  and  made  no 


DEATH  OF  MIKE  FINK.— Page  1S3. 


DEATH    OF   MIKE   FINK.  183 

hostile  demonstration,  except  in  gradually  getting 
nearer — if  hostile  his  aim  was. 

«  Talbott,  you've  accused  me  of  murdering — my  boy 
— Carpenter — that  I  raised  from  a  child — that  I  loved 
like  a  son — that  I  can't  live  without !  I'm  not  mad 
with  you  now,  but  you  must  let  me  show  you  that  I 
couldn't  do  it — that  I'd  rather  died  than  done  it — that 
you've  wronged  me " 

By  this  time  he  was  within  a  few  steps  of  the  door, 
and  Talbott's  agitation  became  extreme.  Both  pistols 
were  pointed  at  Fink's  breast,  in  expectation  of  a  spring 
from  the  latter. 

"  By  the  Almighty  above  us,  Fink,  I'll  fire — I  don't 
want  to  speak  to  you  now — don't  put  your  foot  on  that 
step— don't." 

Fink  did  put  his  foot  on  the  step,  and  the  same  mo 
ment  fell  heavily  within  it,  receiving  the  contents  of 
both  barrels  in  his  breast !  His  last  and  only  words 
were, 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  kill  my  boy !" 

Poor  Mike  !  we  are  satisfied  with  our  senior's  con 
viction  that  you  did  not  mean  to  kill  him.  Suspicion 
of  treachery,  doubtless,  entered  his  mind,  but  cowardice 
and  murder  never  dwelt  there. 

A  few  weeks  after  this  event,  Talbott  himself  per 
ished  in  an  attempt  to  cross  the  Missouri  river  in  a 
skiff". 


ESTABLISHING  A  CONNECTION, 

WHEREIN  ANIMAL  MAGNETISM  IS  REDUCED  TO  VULGAR  COM 
PREHENSION 


You're  travelling  on  a  steamboat,  say ; 

A  walking,  here  and  there  ; 
You'll,  maybe,  meet  a  pretty  face — 

A  certain  witching  air ; 
You'll  see  it  once  or  twice,  and  then 

You'll  say  «  she's  very  pretty  !" 
And  then,  perhaps,  you'll  walk  away, 

And,  maybe,  hum  a  ditty. 

Well,  then,  perhaps,  at  dinner  time, 

A  glance  or  two  may  wander 
Towards  the  table's  upper  end, 

Where  she's  a  sitting,  yonder ; 
You'll  find  a  something  'bout  her  mouth, 

And  the  way  she  lifts  her  fork, 
And  cuts  her  meat,  and  moves  her  jaw, 

And  her  other  table  work  ! 

You  meet  her,  then,  upon  the  "  guard," 
Where,  with  her  friend,  she's  walking, 

Her  arm  round  her  companion's  waist, 
As  girl's  do  when  they're  talking; 
184 


ESTABLISHING   A    CONNECTION.  185 

You  note  the  sweetest  kind  of  foot- 
That  nameless  girlish  grace — 

And  that  bright  smile  which  makes  you  glow 
To  see  on  a  girl's  face. 

Well,  this  goes  on,  perhaps,  two  days, 

You  keep  a  walking  round, 
And  find  yourself,  when  near  her, 

Very  silent  and  profound  ; 
At  last — Lord !  what  a  thing  it  is ! 

It  runs  you  through  and  through— 
You  raise  your  eyes,  and  catch  her  glance~- 

A  side-glance,  and  at  you  ! 

Of  course  she  drops  her  eyes  at  once, 

And  looks  upon  the  floor — 
And  you  may  watch  her  by  the  hour, 

But  won't  catch  her  any  more  ; 
Yet  somehow,  she  don't  move  away, 

In  which  a  comfort  lies ; 
And  though  you  cannot  see  'em,  yet, 

You  kind  a  feel  her  eyes ! 

Well,  then,  perhaps,  one  of  the  doors 

Is  lined  with  looking-glass, 
In  which,  perhaps,  you  see  her  face, 

As,  loungingly,  you  pass  ; 
You  take  a  peep — you  walk  away — 

And  then  walk  back  again — 
Then  sit  and  look,  as  though  her  face 

You'd  draw  right  out  the  pane ! 

You're  trying  all  the  time  to  look 
As  unconcerned  as  e?er — 
z 


186  ESTABLISHING   A   CONNECTION. 

You  run  your  fingers  through  your  hair — 

Perhaps  to  hum,  endeavour  ; 
But  still  you're  peeping  at  her  face, 

And  time  don't  pass  so  dull ; 
When,  suddenly — in  peeping,  whew! 

You  meet  her  eyes  right  full ! 

Oh  gracious!  where's  your  breath!  you're  gone! 

You  feel  yourself  a  blushing, 
And  wonder  why  so  old  a  hand 

Should  feel  his  blood  a  rushing — 
But  still  you  sit, — and  so  does  she — 

And,  at  once, — without  instructor — 
You  find  a  pane  of  lookin'-glass 

A  very  good  conductor! 

Well,  so  it  goes — next  morning,  p'r'aps 

You  bow  to  her  at  breakfast — 
And  then  you  fiddle  with  your  fork, 

'Stead  of  swallowing  your  steak  fast ; 
Well,  she  has  no  great  appetite, 

And  what  she  eats  she  minces — 
And  sits  uneasy  in  her  chair, 

As  if  worried  with  the  chinches  ! 

Perhaps  you  venture,  on  the  "  guard," 

To  say  something  'bout  « the  morning," 
And  she  says,  "  Yes,  sir,"  with  a  smile 

Anr1  blush  her  cheek  adorning ! 
And  then — you  can't  say  any  more — 

And  she  can't  look  up  either — 
And  you  almost  want  to  get  away — 

And  you  don't  want  to  neither ! 


ESTABLISHING   A    CONNECTION.  187 

Well,  now  you're  in  a  state  for  more 

Decisive  operation ; 
Doubt  not  the  process,  but,  at  once, 

Assay — "  manipulation  !" 
Just  touch  her  ringers  !  if  she  stan  is 

And  aon't  lift  up  her  head, 
The  thing  is  out,  as  Crockett  says, 

«  You're  right — and  go  ahead  !" 


A  NIGHT  IN  A  SWAMP. 


IN  the  December  of  1834,  "putting  out"  from  the 
Capital  of  Georgia,  Milledgeville,  (a  "promising  town," 
but  which  very  few  people  think  it  worth  while  to  re 
mind  of  its  promises,)  might  have  been  seen,  at  an 
early  hour  in  the  morning,  a  long,  lumbering  wagon, 
canvas-topped,  &c.,  a  "basket  horse"  snuffing  the 
breeze  out  of  the  after  end,  and  one  or  two  eccentric- 
looking  individuals,  (exclusive  of  the  driver — an  «  up- 
country  cracker,")  lounging  in  the  forepart,  almost  as 
inertly  as  the  rag  pile  of  « Miller's  Men"  on  which 
they  were  reclining.  This  was  the  «  baggage- wagon," 
containing  the  movable  portion  of  the  «  scenery,  ma 
chinery,  dresses,  and  decorations"  of  Mr.  Sol  Smith's 
theatrical  company,  then  in  the  act  of  invading  the 
state  of  Alabama  on  a  winter  campaign,  and  with  the 
purpose  of  attacking  the  town  of  Montgomery,  in  par 
ticular.  Immediately  after  breakfast,  on  the  same 
morning,  two  or  three  « travelling  carriages,"  not  over 
ostentatious  in  their  appearance,  set  out,  on  the  same 
road,  containing  Manager  Sol  and  the  rest  of  the  com 
pany.  It  was  about  the  commencement  of  bad  wea 
ther  ;  the  streams  were  rising ;  I  remember  distinctly 
that  it  was  a  pretty  general  drench  across  the  two  states, 
but  it  is  my  intention  only  to  mention  one  or  two  watery 
passages  connected  with  the  journey. 
188 


A   NIGHT   IN   A    SWAMP.  189 

Not  a  great  way  from  the  Alabama  line,  in  Georgia, 
on  the  high  road  to  Columbus — that  is,  if  it  continues 
to  be  a  high  road  in  these  times  of  topographical  muta 
tion — is  a  watercourse  called  Bull  Creek ;  the  whole 
route  had  been  rendered  difficult  by  the  heavy  rains, 
and  now,  Bull  Creek  lay  in  the  way,  swelling  and  roar 
ing  and  endeavouring  to  deserve  its  name,  by  behav 
ing  in  as  bull-headed  a  manner  as  possible.  Old  Sol's 
private  carriage  was,  literally,  a  family  coach,  his  whole 
family  (a  small  one  at  that  time,  though)  being  con 
tained  in  it,  to  say  nothing  of  the  writer,  who  sat  on  the 
front  seat,  wondering  what  was  to  «  be  done  with  him 
next."  Of  course  there  was  a  dead  stop  at  the  formi 
dable-looking  ford ;  the  negro-driver  «  didn't  like  dat 
water,  no  how ;"  till  manager  "  Sol,"  who  had  often 
crossed  before,  cast  the  black  boy  for  another  part,  that 
of  the  footman,  assumed  the  responsible  character  of 
coachman  himself,  and  boldly  determined  that  he  would 
go  through  with  it.  In  he  went — in — deeper — now, 
glancing  from  the  coach  window,  we  caught  a  full 
view  of  the  stream,  with  its  impetuous  rush  in  the 
middle. 

«  Solomon!"  said  a  mild  voice,  «  won't  it  be  dan 
gerous  ?" 

"  Sol !"  cried  a  more  reckless  one,  «  can  you  go  it, 
old  fellow?" 

"  Hallo  !  daddy,"  screamed  one  of  the  boys,  «  here's 
the  water  coming  through !" 

« It's  only  deep  for  a  few  yards,"  said  Sol,  pushing 
onward,  when,  in  an  instant,  the  body  of  the  coach 
was  inundated,  and,  from  its  loose  motion,  it  was  evi 
dent  that  we  were  afloat !  Sol  whipped  up  like  mad, 
as  the  vehicle  swung  round ;  the  horses  snorted  and 


190  .          A    NIGHT   IN    A    SWAMP. 

struggled,  the  boys  screamed  and  gathered  themselves 
on  to  the  seats,  the  mother  grew  mute  and  pale,  their 
fellow-traveller  contemplated  a  spring  through  the  win 
dow — one  intense  moment,  when  the  horses  felt  ground 
— hurrah!  whip,  shout,  struggle  —  and  the  drenched 
coach,  staggering  and  shivering,  seemingly,  was  drag 
ged  up  the  opposite  slope ! 

"  There,"  says  Sol,  "you  stupid  nigger,  couldn't 
you  do  that  ?" 

The  driver  resumed  his  seat  with  an  expressive 
"Whew!" 

"Well,"  muttered  he,  "I  never  did  tink  Ole  Sol 
done  fotch  himself  clar,  dat  time  !" 

Three  or  four  days,  over  corduroy  roads,  in  the 
«  Creek  Nation,"  Alabama,  had  not  served  to  shake 
Bull  Creek  from  remembrance,  when  a  homeless  throng 
of  about  two  thousand  persons,  camped  in  every  shape 
and  direction,  —  travellers,  movers,  negroes,  &c., 
warned  us  that  we  had  reached  Kalebah  Hatchee, — the 
drain  of  an  immense  swamp,  now  flooded, — and  that 
the  rude  bridge,  &c.,  had  been  swept  away.  It  was 
evening  when  we  arrived.  The  one  house  of  enter 
tainment  swarmed  like  a  bee-hive,  while  the  borders  of 
the  swamp  were  hardly  less  populous. 

«  Not  a  bit  of  room,  inside,"  cried  the  landlord,  as 
we  drove  up. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Sol,  "Knew  you  would.  Jump 
out  ladies." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  room,  I  say,"  repeated  the  landlord. 

«  Of  course  a  bit  will  do ;  there's  only  three,  and  they 
can  all  go  together,  when  there's  a  crowd !" 

"  But  I  say,  there's  no  use  of  coming  in  /" 

"  They're  coming  in,  thank  you,"  blandly  persevered 


A   NIGHT   IN    A    SWAMP.  191 

the  manager,  with  his  hand  to  his  ear,  as  if  partially 
deaf; — and  actually  pushing  by  the  man,  with  the  ladies 
under  his  wing,  he  made  his  way  into  a  back  room  of 
the  log  tenement — one  which  served  alike  for  kitchen 
and  eating-hall — placed  the  shivering  females  at  the 
fire,  and  forthwith  began  doing  the  agreeable  to  the 
cook  and  hostess. 

Following  the  example  of  their  manager,  in  being  a 
little  deaf,  and  a  little  blind,  and  a  good  deal  civil, 
some  half  a  dozen  of  the  party  managed  not  only  to  get 
in  "  for  a  warm,"  as  poor  Smike  says,  but  to  seat  them 
selves  at  the  "first  table,"  also;  nay,  more,  finally 
obtaining  the  sanction  of  the  landlord,  to  "take  their 
chance"  for  the  night.  The  woods,  without,  were  red 
with  camp-fires ;  the  ground  was  marshy  and  wet,  but 
the  scene  was  of  the  wildest  and  most  exciting  nature. 
Not  a  soul  had  passed  for  several  days ;  the  gathering 
crowds,  however,  with  the  Indians  of  the  neighbour 
hood,  had  toiled  unceasingly,  and  a  few  hours'  work, 
in  the  morning,  it  was  thought  would  complete  a  tem 
porary  means  of  crossing.  The  movers  sat  listlessly, 
within  or  around  their  wagons  ;  the  negroes,  prepared 
their  suppers,  laughing  and  singing,  as  usual ;  the  In 
dians  stood  by  in  groups,  or  wandered  singly,  begging 
for  whisky ;  while  Sol  and  his  friends,  raising  the  sur 
prise  of  all,  went  "  from  tent  to  tent"  rehearsing  the 
chorusses  of  Cinderella  and  Massaniello,  then  "  in 
active  preparation,"  for  the  opening  of  the  season,  at 
Montgomery. 

Bed  time  came, — all  but  the  beds  !  The  Thespians 
had  "  their  chance,"  however,  and  had  fixed  their 
hopes  upon  a  small  rude  apartment,  which,  with  divers 
barrels,  old  trunks,  saddles,  &c.,  actually  did  contain 


192  A   NIGHT   IN    A    SWAMP. 

a  cot, — carefully  watched  by  a  lanky,  stupid-looking 
fellow.  On  the  cot,  by  some  extraordinary  distribu 
tion,  were  two  pillows,  and  one  of  them  being  denied 
to  the  intruders,  as  they  arranged  their  bag  or  two  of 
straw,  a  direful  longing  for  mischief  was  aroused.  At 
length  Sol  entered,  looking  more  like  a  deacon  than 
ever  he  did  in  his  most  clerical  moments.  "Sir,"  said 
he,  to  the  proprietor  of  the  pillows,  "  you  have  no  ob 
jection  to  prayer?"  "No,"  said  the  man,  rather  con 
fused.  "Seek  the  landlord,  if  you  please,  and  procure 
two  candles!"  The  commissioned  one  looked  at  his 
cot,  then  at  his  company — how  hushed  into  a  respect 
ful  solemnity  of  aspect — and  finally  went  to  procure  two 
candles. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  want  with  two  candles?" 
cried  the  landlord  as  he  stood  at  the  door,  with  a  pine 
torch  in  his  hand. 

"  That  preacher  says  he  wants  to  have  prayers  by 
'em." 

It  is  uncertain  whether  the  host  liked  least  the  de 
mand,  or  the  object  of  it ;  but  after  an  equally  fruitless 
application  to  the*  lady  of  the  mansion,  the  messenger 
returned — to  find  the  room  in  total  darkness,  and  his 
fellow-lodgers  fast  asleep.  He  groped  to  his  cot,  and 
his  first  exclamation  was,  "  The  pillers  gone,  by  gra 
cious!"  Another  feel — "Look  here,  deacon!"  A 
very  comfortable  snore  came  from  one  corner.  "  I  say, 
strangers,  I'll  be  go  derned  if  you  hain't  gone  to  sleep  a 
leetle  quicker  than  you'd  a-done  if  you  hadn't  gone  and 
stole  my  hull  beddin' !  not  a  dern  thing  but  the  tick!" 
muttered  he,  as  he  continued  his  examination.  «  Strang 
ers  !"  A  simultaneous  snore  from  every  point  appeared 
to  warn  the  bereaved  one  that  the  odds  were  entirely 


:Sir,"  said  he,  to  the  proprietor  of  the  pillows,  "you  have  no  objection  to 
prayers?" — Page  192. 


A   NIGHT   IN    A    SWAMP.  193 

against  him,  and  muttering  that  he  was  «  a  dern  fool, 
any  how,"  and  «  a  pretty  derri  kind  of  a  prayer  meetin* 
that  was,"  &c.,  he  seemed  to  bestow  himself  on  the 
outside  of  the  tick.  Things  became  quiet,  when  the 
intense  darkness  was  strangely  dissipated  by  a  broad 
stream  of  bJue  fire,  which,  starting  from  one  side,  made 
its  way  along  the  planks,  directly  towards  the  cot,  the 
occupant  of  which  jumped  up  in  alarm. 

"Two  candles,  h — 11!"  said  he:  "I  should  like  to 
catch  myself  prayin'  with  such  a  dern  set, — or  sleepin', 
either !  and  he  bolted  out,  while  the  Thespians  bolted 
themselves  in  ;  restoring  the  cot  contingents, — invest 
ing  the  deacon  with  its  occupancy,  and,  finally,  empty 
ing  the  brandy  flask,  a  portion  of  the  contents  of  which 
had  procured  the  evacuation  of  the  fortress. 

The  writer  remembers  being  awakened  in  the  morn 
ing  by  a  strange  sort  of  pushing  and  punching  at  his 
head. 

"Be  quiet,  will  you!"  cried  he.  Another  punch, 
and  an  attempt  to  pull  the  pillow  away. 

"  Oh,  thunder,"  said  he,  peevishly,  "  I've  got  the 
pillow,  and  I  mean  to  keep  it !"  Push — punch— and 
a  deuce  of  a  pull ! 

"  D — n  it,  what  are  you  about !"  The  sleeper  started 
up  to  behold  the  snout  of  a  swine  in  the  act  of  being 
withdrawn  through  a  hole  in  the  floor,  and  the  pillow 
following  it  into  the  upper  apartment— the  pig-sty ! 

How  the  deacon  contrived,  notwithstanding  the  im 
patient  crush  of  two  thousand  persons,  to  get  his  teams 
first  over  the  bridges,  in  the  morning,  ought  to  be  the 
subject  of  a  separate  story. 


13 


STEAMBOAT  MISERIES. 

AFTER  THE  MANNER  OF  BYRON. 


I  had  a  dream — which  was  not  all  a  dream  ; 
The  "  last  bell"  bade  me  hasten,  and  'twas  said 
That  we  should  be  "  right  off,"  and,  lo,  it  was  so  ! 
.And  crowded  « guard,"  and  peopled  "hurricane," 
And  hat  and  'kerchief  waved  from  deck  and  shore, 
And  steamy  echoes  mid  receding  hills, 
Till  men  from  nature  turned  to  Paul  de  Kock. 

Anon  the  twilight  shadows,  a  young  moon, 
And  a  bright  planet  as  its  handmaiden, 
And  gazing  on  the  west,  where  a  dull  red 
Skulk'd  'neath  the  silv'ry  glory,  to  myself 
I  said,  "It  must  be,  surely,  supper  time  ;" 
Turning  below,  e'en  as  another  bell, 
Of  shriller  clamour  summoned  to  the  board, 
Where  all  were  seated,  and — I  missed  it  that  time  . 
Many  were  like  me,  and  one  rev'rend  man 
Spake  of  a  «  second  table,"  calm  in  faith 
That  we  should  find  it  "  much  more  comfortable." 
And  dishes  went,  and  came,  and  went  again, 
(Wide  margins  unto  strangely  larded  dabs) 
And  places  were  vacated  one  by  one, 
And  scraps  were  gathered,  and  odd-sized  boys — 
194 


STEAMBOAT   MISERIES.  195 

(None  of  'em  matched,}  seemed  hired  to  "  take  their 

time ;" 

And  faithfully,  if  so,  they  earned  their  money. 
At  length  the  summons— I  was  seated,  and 
Two  odd  boys  held  huge  pitchers  at  my  head, 
On  either  side,  demanding  « tea  or  coffee  ?" 
And  tea  I  said,  but  sought  in  vain  for  milk ; 
As  vainly  for  a  stomach — frigid  dabs  ! — 
And  turn'd  I  from  pork-chop  to  munch  a  cracker, 
And  view  that  ancient  man  as  I  could  kick  him ! 

And  morn  awoke  upon  a  fairer  stream ; 
When,  3o  !  nor  basin,  napkin,  till  I  sought 
A  closet  on  the  "  guard"  to  come  in  ninth 
For  the  tin  bowl,  to  wipe  with  a  wet  towel, 
And  think  more  charitably,  far,  of  Boz ! 

Hunger  was  on  me,  nor  on  me  alone  ; 

Unshaven  men,  in  two  impatient  rows, 

With  grasp  on  chair-back,  eyed  the  lengthened  board ; 

While  women  peeped  from  distant  « ladies'  cabin," 

And  to  myself  I  said,  «  in  this  time,  sure." 

Anon  the  captain — eager,  all  sat  down, 

And  I  was  nearest  to  the  ladies'  end, 

\Vhen,  as  I  paused  in  my  choice  of  pig, 

Came  a  low  voice,  «  You  are  a  chair  too  high,  sir  ;" 

I  turned — I  saw — I  bowed — and  I  arose  ! 

Again  the  *<  second  table"  and — no  milk  ; 
Cold  sausage,  bacon — priceless  were  an  egg! 
But  eggs  and  milk  being  no  part  of  pig, 
(No  more  than  basins,  towels,  and  white  soap,) 
I  simply  had  to  "  wish  that  I  might  get  it !" 


196  STEAMBOAT   MISERIES. 

And  hours,  and  meals,  and  days,  wore  dully  on  ; 
And  table — first  or  second — still,  still  pig ! 
Until  the  horrible  conception  came 
That  all  things  animal  beside  were  dead  : 
HerbivoraB,  the  graminivora, 
Mammiferse,  and  things  oviparous, 
The  finny  tribes  with  those  of  subtler  air — 
Command  having  been  spoken,  «  root  or  die  !" 
The  clcth  was  foul,  the  forks  were  i'  the  rust, 
The  plates  unwiped,  and  the  castors  void  ; 
There  was  a  streaked  mass — ne'er  got  of  churn, 
Moist  yellow  cubes,  as  falsely  called  cheese ; 
Thrice  was  a  shirt-sleeve  in  my  platter  dipped 
And  shoat,  and  bacon,  sausage,  ham,  and  souse 
Souse,  ham,  and  sausage,  bacon  still,  and  shoat, 
'Till  men  to  other  spake  but  in  a  grunt. 
And  if  there  be  canoe,  or  «  keel,"  or  flat-boat — 
D e  if  e'er  I  am  caught  again  on  that  boat  ? 


A  KESURRECTIONIST  AND  HIS  FKEIGHT. 


«  ONCE  upon  a  time" — not  a  long  time  ago — a  popu 
lar  comedian,  of  whom  nothing  further  need  be  said, 
than  that  he  is  fast  losing  his  early  pretensions  to  shape 
and  beauty,  and  that  his  name  is  Tom  Placide  ;  once 
upon  a  time — and,  if  there  be  any  curiosity  as  to  sea 
son,  we  might  as  well  say  "  during  the  fall" — this  wag 
of  a  fellow  was  descending  the  Mississippi,  in  fine  spi 
rits,  and  a  sporting  coat.  There  were  divers  queer 
characters  on  board  of  the  steamer,  with  whom  Tom, 
while  amusing  himself  with  their  peculiarities,  was 
withal  a  great  favourite,  but  none  of  them  "  cottoned" 
to  him  more  kindly  than  an  elderly  "hoosier,"  from 
the  innermost  depths  of  Indiana,  and  who  was  now 
visiting  New  Orleans  for  the  first  time.  This  russet- 
looking  antique,  whether  it  was  from  the  comedian's 
sporting  buttons,  or  his  habit  of  concluding  controversy 
with  "  I'll  bet  you,"  &c.,  fully  made  up  his  mind  that 
Tom  was  a  "  gentleman  sportsman"  and  wherever  he 
saw  a  "  small  game"  going  on,  he  was  careful  in  not 
ing  the  skill  and  quality  of  the  players,  the  «  size  of  their 
pile,"  &c.,  and  bringing  Tom  the  items.  The  "gen 
tleman  sportsman"  was  very  much  obliged,  of  course, 
though  he  didn't  exactly  know  what  to  make  of  it, 
when,  one  day,  the  confidential  hoosier  took  him  aside, 

197 


198  A   RESURRECTIONIST   AND    HIS   FREIGHT. 

told  him  that  there  was  a  «  smart  chance  of  a  pile"  on 
one  of  the  tables,  and  that  if  he  liked,  he  (the  hoosier) 
would  "  go  in  with  him — in  cahoot  /"  Tom  was  very 
much  amused  at  this,  but  told  his  proposing  partner 
that  he  was  mistaken ;  that  the  fancy  coat  covered  not 
a  "  sportsman,"  but  a  player. 

«  Swan  to*  gracious !"  exclaimed  the  old  contriver, 
"one  of  them  fellers  that  tumbles! — seen  'em,  once, 
more'n  half  naked,  cuttin'  up,  down  to  Madison  ?' 

Tom  didn't  trouble  himself  much  in  explaining  the 
difference  between  a  theatrical  show  and  a  circus  show, 
but  told  the  story  of  the  cards,  &c.  about  the  boat, 
rendering  the  old  fellow  quite  an  object. of  interest  to 
the  passengers.  Next  to  the  card-playing,  the  object 
of  anxiety  to  the  hoosier  was  a  very  large  and  singu 
larly-shaped  pine  box,  which  lay  in  the  «  Social  Hall," 
containing  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  big  fiddle,  and 
which  was  owned  by  a  very  reserved  and  gloomy-look 
ing  German,  on  his  way  south,  professionally. 

"  P/as,"  said  the  hoosier — he  was  thrice  familiar 
with  Tom,  after  learning  that  he  belonged  to  a  show — 
«  what  on  airth  hev  they  got  in  that  box  ;  it's  the  on- 
humanist  shape  I  ever  see  in  all  creation !" 

« Hush,"  said  Tom,  mysteriously ;  "  don't  you 
know  ?" 

"  No  !  I'm  nighly  dead  a  guessin' !" 

«  Bodies !"  whispered  the  comedian,  with  a  strong 
expression  of  loathing. 

«  Bodies!"  echoed  the  startled  inquirer  ;  «  not  ra'al 
human  bodies  ?" 

"Bodies!"  repeated  Tom,  at  the  same  time  apply 
ing  his  handkerchief  to  his  nose  ;  "  taking  them  down 
for  disssection  ;  belong  to  a  doctor  on  board." 


A    RESURRECTIONIST   AND    HIS   FREIGHT.  199 

The  hoosier  turned  away,  opening  his  eyes  and 
shutting  his  nose.  At  length,  he  inquired  if  they  were 
"  Niggers." 

"White  woman  and  two  children,"  was  the  reply; 
"  one  on  each  side  of  her — accounts  for  the  shape  of 
the  box." 

At  this  moment  the  haggard,  unshaven  violinist  ap 
proached,  and  the  thoroughly  «  sawed"  victim  made 
way  for  him  as  if  he  had  been  the  cholera  incarnate  ! 

«  Goes  about  diggin'  on  'em  up,  does  he  ?"  said  he, 
between  his  teeth,  and  in  a  suppressed  voice  ;  "  why, 
it'll  breed  pison !"  and  out  he  went  on  the  "  guard" 
to  take  a  long  breath. 

Tom  told  this  joke,  also,  among  the  passengers,  who 
carried  it  on,  highly  amused  ;  making  wide  circuits 
whenever  they  had  to  approach  the  box,  using  their 
handkerchiefs,  and  expressing  much  indignation  at  the 
captain  for  permitting  that  description  of  freight  to  be 
brought  under  the  noses  of  his  passengers.  Some 
talked  of  leaving  the  boat,  and  others  of  lynching  the 
doctor,  till  at  length  the  captain,  who  had  also  been 
put  up  to  the  fun,  approacneu  tne  crowd,  then  gathered 
about  the  bar. 

«  Phew  !"  sniffled  the  captain,  "  it's  very  warm  in 
here,  gentlemen  ;  phew  !"  and  he  pulled  out  his  hand 
kerchief.  "  Gentlemen,  isn't  there  something  unplea 
sant  about  here  ?" 

« Pretends  not  to  know  what  it  is!"  muttered  the 
hoosier,  aside. 

"Barkeeper,"  continued  the  captain,  "what  the 
deuce  is  it — phew — so  quelr  here  ?" 

"  Reckon  you  don't  know  !"  exclaimed  the  hoosier, 
stepping  forward,  and  almost  quivering  with  indignation. 


200          A    RESURRECTIONIST   AJ  D    HIS   FREIGHT. 

"Know!  certainly  not,"  said  the  captain. 

"  Wall,  you've  got  that  box  TOO  NEAR  THE  STOVE, 
that's  all  /" 

A  perfect  scream  of  laughter  rather  stumped  the  old 
fellow  ;  but  a  removal  of  « the  lid  of  the  coffin"  was 
necessary  before  he  could  be  convinced  that  the  body, 
indeed,  was  only  that  of  «  Old  Rosin  the  Bow."  He 
paid  "  the  liquors"  willingly,  «  cWssin*  his  old  cat  for 
not  remembering  that  «  Plas"  was  one  of  the  "  show- 
varmints !" 


THF 


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2    T.  B.  PETERSON  &  BEOTHERS'  PUBLICATIONS. 
CHARLES     DICKENS'     WORKS. 

*T- GREAT    REDUCTION    IN    THEIR    PRICES. -=©» 

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T.  B.  PETERSON  &  BROTHERS'  PUBLICATIONS.    3 


CHARLES   DICKENS'    WORKS. 

ILLUSTRATED  OCTAVO  EDITION. 

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Dickens'  New  Stories,... Cloth,  2.00 

A  Tale  of  Two  Cities,. ..Cloth,  2.00 
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THE  "NEW  NATIONAL  EDITION." 

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American  Notes, 25 

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Hard  Times, 25 

AT.ile  of  Two  Cities, 25 

Somebody's  Luggage, 25 

Message  from  the  Sea, 25 

Barnaby  Rudge, 25 

Sketches  by  "Boz," 25 


Christmas  Stories,  ..................     25 

The  Haunted  House,  ...............     23 

Uncommercial  Traveler  ...........     25 

A  House  to  Let,  ..................... 

Perils  of  English  Pi-isum-jv,  ..... 

Wreck  of  the  Golden  Mary,  ...... 

Torn  Tiddler's  Ground.....*.  ....... 

Our  Mutual  Friend,  ............... 

Bleak  House,  ......................... 

Little  Dorrit,  ......................... 

Joseph  Griinaldi,  ................... 

The  Pic-Nic  Papers,  ............... 

No  Thoroughfare  ................... 

Hunted  Down,  ...................  ... 

The  Holly-Tree  Inn,  ............... 


25 


25 


Mrs.  Lirriper's  Lodgings  smd  Mrs.  Lirriper's  Legacy, 25 

Mugby  Junction  and  Dr.  Marigold's  Prescriptions, 25 

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Mrs.  Hale's  New  Cook  Book, : Clcth,  1  75 

Francatelli's   Celebrated  Cook  Book.      The    Modern   Cook.      With 

Sixty-two  illustrations,  600  larga  octavo  pages, Cloth,  5  00 

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My  Son's  Wife.     By  author  of  "Caste,"  "Mr.  Arle,"  etc 1  50 

Self-Sacrifice.     By  author  of  "  Margaret  Maitland,"  etc 1  50 

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Flirtations  in  Fashionable  Life.     By  Catharine  Sinclair, 1  50 


•  Gemma,  By  T.  A.  Trollope,..  1  50 

The  Lost  Beauty, 1  50 

The  Rival  Belles, 1  50 

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The  Pride  of  Life, i  51) 

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Married  at  Last, 1  50 

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Love  and  Duty, 1  50 

Bohemians  in  London, 1  50 

The  Man  of  the  World, 1  50 

High  Life  in  Washington, 1  50 

The  Jealous  Husband, 1  50 

Belle  of  Washington, 1  50 

Courtship  and  Matrimony, 1  50 

Family  Secrets, 1  50 

Rose  Douglas, 1  50 

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Love  and  Money, 1  50 


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T.  B.  PETERSON  &  BROTHERS'  PUBLICATIONS.    5 


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Harry  Lorrequer, 75 

Jack  Hinton, 75 

Tom  Burke  of  Ours,...  75 


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Arthur  O'Leary,... 75 

Con  Cregan, 75 

Davenport  Dunn, 75 


Above  are  each  in  paper,  or  finer  edition  in  cloth,  price  $2.00  each. 
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First  and  True  Love, 75 

The  Corsair, 50 

Jealousy,                paper, 1  50 

Do.                     cloth, l"75 


Fanchon,  the  Cricket,  paper,...  1  00 

Do.  do.        cloth,...   ]  50 

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Do.  do.        cloth,...  1  75 

Consuelo  and  Rudolstadt,  both 

in  one  volume,  cloth, 2  00 


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Hide  and  Seek, 75 

After  Dark, 75 

The  Dead  Secret.     8vo 75 

Above  in  cloth  at  $1.00  each. 

The  Queen's  Revenge, 75 


Mad  Monkton, 50 

Sights  a-Foot, 50 

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Sister  Rose, 25 


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Confessions  of  a  Pretty  Woman,       75  I  Rival  Beauties, 75 

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MRS.  HENRY  WOOD'S  BOOKS. 


Lord  Oakburn's  Daughters  ;  or, 
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The  Castle's  Heir;  or,  Lady 
Adelaide's  Oath,...  ..  1 


Elster's  Folly 1  50 

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Mildred  Arkell, 1  50 

Shadow  of  Ashlydyat, 1  50 

Oswald  Cray, 1  50 

Verner's  Pride, 1  50 

Above  are  each  in  paper  cover,  or  each  one  in  cloth,  for  $1.75  each. 
The  Mystery, 75  |  A  Life's  Secret, 50 

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The  Channings, 1  00  |  Aurora  Floyd, 75 

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Red  Court  Farm, 75 

Orville  College 50 

The  Runaway  Match,.. 50 

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The  Haunted  Tower, ,  50 


The  Lost  Bank  Note, 75 

Better  for  Worse, 75 

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The^Lawyer's  Secret, 25 

William  Allair 25 

A  Light  and  a  Dark  Christmas,  25 


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6     T.  B.  PETERSON  &  BROTHERS'  PULICATIOffS. 


ALEXANDl 

HI 
1 
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Queen's  Necklace,  

Six  Years  Later,. 

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Countess  of  Charney,.... 

Diana  of  Meridor,  

Andree  de  Taverney 

The  Three  Guardsmen,  

The  Chevalier, 

Twenty  Years  After,  

Forty-five  Guardsmen,.. 

The  Iron  Hand 

The  Conscript.    A  Tale  of  War, 

Camille,  "The  Camelia  Lady," 

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Edrnonrl  Dantes, 75 

Felina  de  Chauibure, 75 

The  Horrors  of  Paris, 75 

The  Fallen  Angel, 75 

Sketches  in  France, 75 

Is.'-.bel  of  Bavaria, 75 

Count  of  Moret,..., 50  |  George, 


Man  with  Five  Wives, 75 

Twin  Lieutenants, 75 

Annette,  Lady  of  the  Pearls,....  50 

Mohicans  of  Paris, 50 

The  Marriage  Verdict, 50 

The  Corsiciin  Brother?, 50 

50  |  Buried  Alive, 25 


75 


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Whitefriars;  or,  The  Days  of  Charles  the  Second.     Illustrated, 

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50 


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Lord  Saxondalo, 1 

Count  Christoval, 1 

Rosa  Lambert, 1 


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Eustace  Quentin, J   00 

Joseph  Wilmot, , 1  00 

Banker's  Daughter, 1  00 

Kenneth, 1   00 

The  Rye-House  Plot, i  00 

The  Necromancer,...                ..  1  00 


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The  Opera  Dancer, 75    The  Soldier's  Wife, 75 

75 

75 

75 


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Robert  Bruce, 75 

Discarded  Queen, 75 

The  Gipsy  Chief, 75 

Mary  Stuart,  Queen  of  Scots,...  75 

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Countess  of  Lascelles, 75 

Loves  of  the  Harem, 75 

Ellen  Percy, 75 


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Duke  of  Marchrnont, 

Massacre  of  Glencoe, 

Queen  Joanna;  Court  Naples,  75 

Pickwick  Abroad, 75 

Parricide, 75 

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Ciprina;  or,  Secrets  of  n.  Pic 
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Life  in  Paris, 50 

Countess  and  the  Page, 50 

Edgar  Montrose, , 50 


Agnes  Evelyn, 75 

WAVERLEY  NOVELS.    BY  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 


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Rob  Roy, 50 

Guy  Mannering, 50 


The  Betrothed, 50 

Peveril  of  the  Peak, 50 

Quentin  Durward,... 50 


Red  Gauntlet, 50 

The  Talisman, 50 


Woodstock,. 

Highland  Widow,  etc., 50 

The  Pair  Maid  of  Perth, 50 

Anne  of  Geierstein, 50 

Count  Robert  of  Paris, 50 

The  Black  Dwarf  and  Legend 

of  Montrose, 50 

Castle    Dangerous,    and    Sur 
geon's  Daughter, 50 


The  Antiquary 50 

Old  Mortality  50 

Heart  of  Mid  Lothian, 50 

Bride  of  Lammermoor, 50 

Waverley, 50 

St.  Ronan's  Well, 50 

Kenilworth, 50 

The  Pirate, 50 

The  Monastery, 50 

The  Abbot, 50 

The  Fortunes  of  Nigel, 50 

A  Cheap  edition  for  the  Million  is  also  published  of  the  above,  complete 
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Jacob  Faithful, 

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Biddy  Woodhull, 25 

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Life  of  Captain  Blood, 25 

Capt.  Blood  and  the  Beagles...  25 
Sixteen-Stringed  Jack's  Fight 

for  Life, 25 

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Life  of  Paul  Periwinkle,  

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Man-of-War's-Man  
Dark  Shades  of  City  Life,  
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or,  I  Adelaide  Waldegrave;   or,  the 

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MRS.  GREY'S  WORKS. 

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The  above  are  each  in  paper  cover,  or  in  cloth,  price  $1.75  each. 


Young  Pritna  Donna, 50 

Hyacinthe, 25 

Alice  Seymour, 

Mary  Seah aua, 

Passion  and  Principle, 

The  Flirt, 

Good  Society, 

Lion-Hearted, 


Gipsy's  Daughter, 50 

Old  Diower  House, 50 

Belle  of  the  Family, 50 

Duke  and  Cousin, 50 

The  Little  Wife, 50 

Lena  Cameron, 50 

Sybil  Lennard, 50 

Manoeuvring  Mother 50 

Baronet's  Daughters, 50 

GREEN'S  WORKS  ON  GAMBLING. 

Gambling  Exposed, 1  50  I  The  Keformed  Gambler, 1   50 

The  Gambler's  Life, 1  50  I  Secret  Band  of  Brothers 1  50 

Above  are  each  in  paper  cover,  or  each  one  in  cloth,  for  $1.75  each. 

DR.  HOLLICK'S  WORKS. 

Dr.  Hollick's  great  work  on  the  Anatomy  and   Physiology  of  the 

Human  Figure,  with  colored  dissected  plates  of  the  Human  Figure, 

Dr.  Hollick's  Family  Physician,  a  Pocket  Guide  for  Everybody, 


1  50 
25 


BOOKS   BY  CELEBRATED  AUTHORS. 


Elsie's  Married  Life, 75 

Leyton  Hall.  By  Mark  Lemon,  75 

The  Brigand.  By  Victor  Hugo,  75 

Crock  of  Gold.    By  Tupper,...  75 

Twins  and  Heart.    By  Tupper,  75 

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Agnes  Grey, 50 

Legends  of  Mexico, 50 

Eva  St.  Clair, 50 

Life  of  General  McClellan, 50 

Diary  of  a  Physician, 50 

The  Emigrant  Squire, 50 

The  Monk,  by  Lewis 50 

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Josephine,  by  Grace  Aguilar,..  5<1 

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Women 50 

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Jack  Downing'^  Letters,.. 

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Rose  Warrington, 

The  Iron  Cross, 

Charles  Rnnsford, 

Life  of  Archbishop  Hughes,.... 

Life  of  General  Butler, 

Life  of  General  Mctide 

The  Mysteries  of  Bedlam 

The  Nob]  em  sin's  Daughter,... 
Madison's    Exposition  of  Odd 

Fellowship, 

The  Book  of  Ghost  Stories,.... 
Ladies'  Science  of  Etiquette,... 

The  Valley  Farm, 

The  Abbey  of  Innismoyle 

Glitldon's  Ancient  Egypt  

Philip  in  Search  of  a  Wife, 

Father  Tom   find  the    Pope,  in 

cloth  gilt,  75  cents,  or  paper, 
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T.  B.  PETERSON  &  BRGTHERG'  PUBLICATIONS.    15 
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Rebel  and  Rover 25 

First  Love, 25 

The  Two  Merchants, 25 

A  Year  After  Marriage, .........  25 

Lovo  in  High  Life, 25 

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The  Debtor's  Daughter, 25 

The  Lady  at  Home, 25 

Mnry  Moreton, 25 

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Dick  Parker, 25 

Jack  Ketch, 25 

Mother  Brownrigg, 25 

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Mary  Bateman, 25 

Raoul  de  Surville 25 

Life  of  Harry  Thomas, 25 

Mrs.  Whipple  &  Jesse  Strang's 

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Charles  Ransford, 25 

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for  Life, 25 

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